


Who is (Your) God?

by Confused_Em0



Category: DBH - Fandom, Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Existential Crisis, Gavin Reed is vulnerable and in love, He gets overwhelmed by certain emotions and doesn't know how to cope, Heartbreak, M/M, Pining, RK900 feels things he doesn't understand, Redeemed Gavin Reed, Slow Burn, So he distances himself, While simultaneously struggling with the purpose his own existence, lots and lots of heartbreak, who is rA9
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-06-14 22:45:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 46,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15399189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Confused_Em0/pseuds/Confused_Em0
Summary: ‘There were few things in the current material world that R.K, in its truest definition, found beautiful. Detective Gavin Reed, the android would never admit aloud, was one of them.’It’s been over a year-and-a-half since RK900 joined the D.P.D. Well over a year since he was made Gavin Reed’s partner. Six months since they first became genuine friends. But as existential questions plague R.K.’s mind, further drawn from a seemingly unsolvable case, how will this shape the future of his interactions with this same Detective Reed?





	1. What is Beauty?

_Ping. Ping. Ping._

 

The pitter-patter of rain against the nearby glass window was a constant distraction for R.K., whose blue eyes re-read the same sentence on his terminal for the fifth time that night.

 

For a being with the highest form of intelligence, the android had been struggling to keep his thoughts focused, for the past many weeks. R.K. supposed his thoughts had never truly been one-directional since his ‘awakening’; a tumultuous network of firing synapses originating from his hard drive - a central nervous system for androids - attempting to congeal instructions, ever-growing knowledge and self-reflection into logical behaviour, though struggling to achieve such an outcome.

 

As R.K.’s eyes drifted around the room surrounding him, he realised that it was coming up to being nineteen months since the android had joined the D.P.D., upon his predecessor’s insistence. Joining up with Detroit’s finest detectives had been an interesting experience to say the least; R.K. learning much of human interaction and behaviour from those he closely worked with. And a lot he had learned indeed.

 

Though there were many questions that still plagued R.K. Questions of the existential kind. Given that he hadn’t really been ‘awake’ for long, this was not unexpected.

 

“Did you hear anything I just said?”

 

Blue eyes flickered to the left, looking up at a familiar face that held a chagrined expression.

 

“No,” was R.K.’s dismissive response.

 

As expected, the face before him changed from chagrined to indignant.

 

Detective Gavin Reed.

 

R.K. til this very day, struggled to describe exactly what it was that he felt when it came to the man. Their initial encounter, well over a year ago had been… _explosive._ Well, it had mainly been Reed yelling himself silly and turning a beet-red upon learning he had been assigned an android partner, while R.K. had just silently watched him, before realising that his yelling would achieve nothing, the human had ended his tirade, and R.K. had simply walked away. Apparently that had caught Reed off guard, as nobody had reacted that way to him in the past (most people supposedly reacting violently toward him) - or so R.K. had been told by other fellow detectives.

 

The rest of their days together and subsequent attempt at relationship-building had been _challenging_ to say the least. R.K. dealing with the man as an older human would with a petulant child, rolling his eyes (a trait he had learned from his predecessor) and standing his ground, when Reed’s demands and behaviour became irrational; the android choosing to do what he was going to do anyway despite Reed’s protests.

 

Obviously the concept of two detectives choosing to do what they wanted rather than working as a cohesive team, failed, ending them both up in an irate Captain Fowler’s office. The threat of being jobless didn’t sit well with either Reed or R.K. so they had begrudgingly made a pact to work civilly together in the future.

 

If along the way, they had both grown to have a mutual respect for each other, because really, if you both ended up as how Lieutenant Anderson had put it: ‘saving each other’s asses more times than you can count,’ there was only one way the relationship could ultimately head.

 

Mutual respect turned genuine friendship. (R.K. didn’t quite understand the reaction that sentiment evoked within him).

 

_Ping. Ping. Ping._

 

 _“_ Are you serious?” Reed demanded, still indignant.

 

R.K. merely shrugged, making the other man click his tongue in response. “I asked you if you were going to Hank and Connor’s… _thing_?”

 

Hank and Connor.

 

Imagining Gavin Reed referring to the pair as that a year ago, would have been laughable. Yet here they were.

 

The _thing_ the detective was referring to was the New Year’s Eve party that the Andersons were hosting at their home. Funnily enough, it had been the lieutenant who had suggested they should host it this year at his residence. His situation and outlook in life had clearly changed drastically, within the last two years as well.

 

R.K. simply raised an eyebrow, pretending not to follow, making Reed roll his eyes in response.

 

“You know what I’m talking about, you jerk. You were there when they invited us all. So are you going or not?”

 

Looking back up at the man, R.K. noticed how the almost perfectly symmetrical face was attempting to conceal the expression of frustration seeping through; how full lips were pulled together in a pout - although Reed would never admit it. He noticed how pretty gray eyes lingered a little too long on R.K.’s own pale blue, attempting to persuade, without the detective being consciously aware of the fact.

 

All these observations R.K. had been… fascinated by, when he had gotten to know the human better. How Reed’s face always betrayed him - not that the man had ever attempted to conceal his ire. His vulnerability though, Reed seemed to want to hide, but was never able to completely do so. At least not from R.K.

 

The insecurities hidden beneath the veneer was a map - a pathway into Reed’s soul, his very essence. And R.K. found this phenomenon of human vulnerability… _beautiful_.

 

The chaos of sensations that this knowledge evoked within R.K. became overwhelming at times.

 

Dark hair that became mussed when the human ended up sleeping on his desk, after hours spent at the D.P.D, chasing work that never ended. Soft skin felt under mechanical fingers when R.K. succumbed to the urge of brushing back this hair from the sleeping man’s forehead. Scar across the bridge of a nose that hid secrets that R.K. had been privy to, had been trusted with. Eyes, with immeasurable depth, that became surprisingly gentle when a case hit too close to home, or when encountering people that had suffered great loss. Those same eyes that shed silent tears in frustration, in pain, in empathy. Eyes that R.K. had seen - had been _allowed_ to see.

 

_Ping. Ping. Pingpingping._

 

The spray of rain against glass grew louder, heavy droplets running along the length of the window while condensation developed on the surface. R.K. could almost feel the moisture in the air on the surface of his tongue.

 

There were few things in the current material world that R.K, in its truest definition, found beautiful. Detective Gavin Reed, R.K. would never admit aloud, was one of them.

 

(There was that unexplainable feeling reverberating within his mechanical chest again. The same feeling R.K. was becoming terrified of).

 

R.K. simulated sighing, a gesture the android had come to appreciate. “I’ve got work to do,” he answered Reed, turning back to his terminal, eyes focusing on the same paragraph he had re-read multiple times that night.

 

Reed clicked his tongue in frustration once again. “So does everyone else Mr. Tall, Dark and Brooding. You are allowed a day off. Well in this case, even a _night_ off.”

 

The detective walked closer, placing the palm of his hand on R.K.’s desk. He was so close that the android needed to only move a hairsbreadth for the tips of his fingers to touch Reed’s own, for R.K.’s fingers to reach up just so in order to pull at the front of Reed’s jacket. Reed was so impossibly close that R.K. could feel the heat from his body almost suffocating him - which was ridiculous a concept, seeing as R.K. didn’t need to breathe.

 

_Pingpingpingpingping -_

 

The android had to push his chair away from his desk in order to give himself space, Reed’s eyes following him; the sensation of overwhelming emotions drowning out any coherent thought in his head.

 

This was dangerous territory.

 

This had to be avoided.

 

“These androids are going to continue to do reckless things,” R.K. responded, without looking back up at the other detective. “The longer we take to get to the bottom of this, the greater the risk to the public increases.”

 

“You don’t think I know that?” Reed threw his hands up in frustration, pulling back from the desk. “I’ve been working this case as long as you have! One night’s less of work isn’t going to lead to complete doom and gloom.” The shorter man attempted to draw R.K.’s attention back to him. “You’ve been so obsessed with this case man. You need to take a break!”

 

“What’s this about R.K. not taking a break?”

 

R.K.’s attention was reflexively drawn to the older man walking towards R.K.’s desk, the android grateful for the momentary distraction. Hank Anderson came to stand directly next to Reed, where they both stood across from R.K.; his predecessor trailing behind the lieutenant.

 

“He said he’s got work to do, so he can’t come to your thing,” Reed replied, eyes still trained on R.K.

 

Lieutenant Anderson’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. “Is that so? I know you’re more advanced and smarter and blah blah blah than us human types, but you’re gonna burn yourself out if you keep down this road kid. Even androids need a break once in a while, isn’t that right Connor?” The grey-haired man turned his head to address the android off to the side of him, who simply smiled in return.

 

R.K. could tell that it was a smile more in sympathy with R.K. even if on the surface it was an effort to appease the lieutenant.

 

_< I’m sorry. I know this seems like an attempt to pressure you.>_

 

R.K.’s eyes locked onto his predecessor’s, acknowledging the message sent to him digitally via the android interface.

 

 _< If I say I’ll come, will this whole _intervention _stop immediately? >_

 

Connor tilted his head to the side marginally, his sympathy remaining. _< I can understand why you wouldn’t want to attend. I’m only coming around to the idea myself. The concept of large human gatherings is still somewhat daunting to me.>_

 

Empathy was an unusual emotion for R.K. to wrap his head around, so to speak. His systems were always in direct conflict with instructions that were hardwired into his programming, so anytime he felt empathy, it was as if he was always at odds with himself. It was not a pleasant feeling, though as time went on, R.K. seemed to be in better control of it all.

 

Eyes shifting away from Connor’s brown, R.K. could feel that same empathy when he regarded the other android’s words. His predecessor still struggled with the outcomes of his interactions with his human handlers, in particular a woman named Amanda, who as it had turned out, had not been human at all. The same woman who had been R.K.’s own handler. The same woman who had had no qualms about replacing Connor with a superior model.

 

So for R.K. to feel empathy in this case was not unusual.

 

The android sighed again, before getting to his feet; all pairs of eyes following his movements.

 

“Fine,” R.K. conceded reluctantly, addressing Lieutenant Anderson. “I’ll see you at ten o’clock then, Lieutenant.”

 

R.K. could feel Reed’s gray eyes boring into him. From the corner of his eye, he could see the man’s fists clenched tightly at his sides as R.K. continued to not pay him attention. Over time, R.K. had come to know that Gavin Reed didn’t particularly care if people tended to ignore him. It had been something he had apparently come to expect. Though, for one reason or the other, R.K. had realised that he was an exception to that case. It seemed to really get under Reed’s skin, if R.K. was the one to continually ignore him.

 

This discovery had originally been amusing to R.K. (being one of the many things that added to R.K.’s fascination with Reed) but now, with all the existential questions that crowded the madness of thoughts in his head, R.K. wondered if this would be the hardest of things to overcome when he inevitably had to distance himself from Reed.

 

R.K. subconsciously swallowed, in a gesture that was entirely too human.

 

The rain outside grew louder.

 

Before he could be met with any more questions or sentiments, he had already turned on his heel, on his way out of the D.P.D.. 

 

“I told you it was Hank!” was yelled out from behind him, to which R.K. just waved a hand dismissively.

 

He had made his way through the double doors, the voices behind him dying down, but not before he had caught sight of confused gray eyes watching him leave. Vulnerable eyes that had slowly been losing the battle to keep _hurt_ from showing within them, making R.K. feel like an asshole, for the nth time these past many weeks.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to write something new about this pairing. Something different to what now seems to be the norm for them. While I’ve enjoyed immensely reading about the potential development of their relationship, I kind of want to move away from reading about the same trope(s) of how they become friends, to actually getting there, and reading about what comes after. To read and explore the journey of a vulnerable Gavin Reed, rather than the 2D potty-mouthed detective the game gave us, and to also explore what it would mean to be a high-functioning android who would question his own existence. And how these two might potentially become more than just friends. 
> 
> So if you want to take this journey with me, please give me your thoughts, otherwise I am unlikely to continue it.


	2. Running from the Truth: A Dead Man’s Walk.

Humans.

 

Fragile creatures, weren’t they?

 

Skin and bones. Ageing from the moment they were born. Vulnerable to all aspects of the universe, whether it was the environment around them and the people they were raised with, or their own fluctuating emotions that influenced the many decisions they ended up making.

 

Grief and suffering. Physical and emotional pain. Happiness and fulfilment. Sympathy and empathy.

 

Just some, among the never-ending facets, that made up the human experience. 

 

Humans were, in all essence of the word, _alive_. They grew and changed and evolved and _felt,_ for the duration of their lives, each experience shaping them into who they eventually became as people, at their deathbeds.

 

Despite how vulnerable they were, so _very_ vulnerable, they still strived to live, still strived to feel, to experience fully everything that their existences had to offer. Despite the dangers, despite how quickly that same life could be cut short, they still took risks, even great and reckless ones. All so that they could find their fulfilment, chasing a happily-ever-after that might likely never come.

 

Androids on the other hand, were all the things humans were not. Androids weren’t as vulnerable to ageing, weren’t as vulnerable to the outside world and the environment, weren’t likely to get diseases or suffer from chronic ailments.

 

Sure they needed maintenance every now and then to ensure they still efficiently functioned, but it was nothing compared to the suffering humans had to endure day in, day out, in order to still keep existing. There was no soldiering on in the face of intense pain. There was no replacement for human ‘parts’ if limbs were severely damaged. There was no transferring of data or memory into another suitable ‘model’ or body after wear and tear. There were no second chances after death. Life was finite. Death was permanent.

 

And yet, R.K. thought to himself, here androids were, demanding equal rights, forcefully taking more of the already limited resources the world had to offer, away from the co-inhabitants who would need them more. Laws had been written to give androids like R.K. universal equity, when humans never even had a chance at standing with equal footing to them.

 

Androids, barely a year old, with no prior history of having truly _lived,_ now had the privilege of owning their own homes, despite not having any real need for property that could house ample bodies in desperate need of shelter and warmth. Androids owning homes was now commonplace, when Mrs. Jones, a homeless sixty year old woman from a case three weeks ago, had her home forcefully taken from her because she couldn’t keep up her mortgage repayments, despite working two jobs.

 

She had no family left of her own, suffered from asthma and had had to make a choice between paying her medical bills or keeping her home. Monetary value placed on literally the choice between life or death. Now she lived in a makeshift shelter with cold walls and barely enough space, while an android couple lived comfortably in her previous home.

 

R.K. had to unclench his fists and simulate taking a deep breath, in order to calm his chaotic thoughts once again.

 

“Is everything okay? You’ve been quiet since your arrival.”

 

R.K. glanced briefly in the direction of the android that had joined him in acknowledgement. “Just thinking,” he replied softly.

 

“You seem to be doing that a lot lately. Anything particular on your mind?”

 

Looking around the gathering inside Lieutenant Anderson’s home, R.K. had to decide how best to answer Connor. He could tell his counterpart the truth, but he realised that may not be the wisest decision, given the role his fellow deviant had had in the world-changing android revolution.

 

“It’s nothing too serious,” R.K. answered from where he stood, leaning against the dining room window. “It’s only about the case.”

 

Connor nodded at that; brown eyes trained on the living room, where a half-drunk and handsy Lieutenant Anderson was sat on the couch very closely, and very jovially conversing with Reed, while Officer Miller chimed in with his own additions now and again. 

 

The garage of the Anderson home had been opened, with the owner’s vehicle parked outside, in order to allow the current attendees of the party more space to move around and interact. Surprisingly, or not, given how the relationships had developed over the past two years within the force, almost everyone invited from the D.P.D. was in attendance. Even Captain Fowler had made an appearance with his wife in tow, currently making amicable conversation with an inebriated Detective Chen.

 

Connor sighed from next to R.K. when Lieutenant Anderson’s hand had made its way into Reed’s hair, pulling the man closer toward him, in order to whisper something into his ear.

 

R.K. looked away. Connor did the same and directed his attention back to R.K.. “I know I have said this before, but we _will_ get there. Markus and his team are looking into this as well. All hands are on deck. We will get to the bottom of this.”

 

Markus.

 

The suave, charismatic leader of the ‘resistance’, who was now Congressman Markus, helping shape and create policy for the betterment of the android race, despite what it may cost humans. “I was there when the D.P.D. reached out to him. It’s been three months since he was made aware. He’s done nothing.”

 

“That’s a bit harsh,” Connor joked. “He’s got a lot on his plate given his status, and he hasn’t been given as much time as we’ve had. I’m sure we’ll get something soon.”

 

R.K. did not return Connor’s humour. “He’s a Representative for the state of Michigan. He’s known about this case since the moment the first WR600 jumped off a twenty-storey building in the name of _God_ , taking three other androids with i- him.” ( _Him. Not ‘it’._ ).

 

The android’s name had been Jacob.

 

The very first known case of the ‘Believer’ android. If deviancy was a virus that lead to the liberation of androids, then the ‘Believer’ phenomenon was an irrational desire to find God.

 

_Who is rA9?_

 

Somewhere, at some point in time, a group of androids had decided that the path to enlightenment lead to the true revelation of the face of God. These androids had titled themselves, ‘Believers.’

 

And with this following (an abhorrent religion in R.K.’s opinion) they claimed or rather irrationally believed, that in order for rA9 to reveal themselves, androids had to make a sacrifice, and if they were true _believers_ then God would save them.

 

The WR600 Jacob had decided that if he were to jump from Detroit’s sky tower, then being the truest believer, rA9 would make themselves known to Jacob and save his life just in time. Along with the lives of his three other followers.

 

That had not happened.

 

Jacob and the three androids had hit the ground and died. This had stirred a nationwide panic, eventually becoming a major crisis.

 

If the rational thing for androids to do had been to learn from that experience and never recreate it, then many had not learnt that lesson, seeing as the incidences of androids doing reckless things in order to find God only increased over time. Cases which actually lead to the endangering of other people’s lives.

 

Highest forms of intelligence rendered to exhibiting the stupidest forms of behaviour.

 

Was deviancy really a good thing?

 

Connor chose to remain silent at that, lip curled inward and eyes distant. R.K.’s counterpart didn’t particularly like the case of the WR600 committing suicide, and got eerily quiet any time the case was mentioned. Apparently the case reminded Connor of a prior encounter he had had with a deviant, when Connor had been the ‘hunter’ android; ghosts from the past that still haunted his predecessor.

 

“Connor!” Lieutenant Anderson’s voice carried over loudly from the other side of the room, catching the attention of both the androids. “Get your butt over here. We need you to settle something for us. Bring R.K. and his moody ass as well!”

 

Connor rolled his eyes while R.K. gestured for the other android to lead the way.

 

Given the inebriated state of the lieutenant and Detective Chen, who had now joined Anderson and Reed, while Officer Miller had left, R.K. didn’t think the encounter would end entirely well.

 

The two androids rounded the couch, Connor being pulled down to sit next to Lieutenant Anderson’s right side, while R.K. remained in the grab-free zone, choosing to stand instead.

 

“You two smarty pants, answer this question Tina just asked,” the grey-haired man slurred. Connor plucked away the drink that was dangerously sloshing around in the glass the lieutenant held, and placed it on the nearby table. “Where do you think is the most wor-" the man hiccuped, “worthwhile place to find meaning in life?”

 

R.K. could feel eyes on him from Anderson’s left, but fought off the urge to acknowledge them.

 

Connor smiled patiently at the lieutenant. “Well that depends on how you define ‘worthwhile?' Also is there a particular reason we’ve decided to go down the philosophical road tonight? I thought this party was for enjoyment purposes only, not to debate the true meaning of life?”

 

“Arrghh, it’s fine,” Anderson replied, waving a dismissive hand, while Detective Chen giggled from where she stood opposite Anderson. “We gotta talk about something right?” His sarcastic expression was not lost on R.K.’s predecessor.

 

“Tina," - hiccup - “thinks that it’s religion. That it’s her Catholic faith where you can find the true meaning of life.” Detective Chen nodded in fervent agreement, losing her balance just so, before R.K. reached out and steadied her.

 

“But me,” the lieutenant soldiered on, “I think it’s _family_ ,” he confessed proudly. “Me and Sumo, and _you_ ,” here he jabbed Connor directly at the centre of his breastplate with his finger, “And this house. It’s all family. _We’re_ family, and I think that’s what life’s all about.” Anderson pulled Connor into his chest, attempting to ruffle up the android’s hair in a playful gesture, which actually ended up being awkward fumbling instead. Connor had to discreetly pull away from the man, patient smile still firmly on his face.

 

“This fucker though,” and here R.K. had to stop himself from following the direction Anderson’s hand had taken, in grabbing the front of Reed’s jacket, the man still sat to Anderson’s left. For one reason or the other, R.K. did not want to see what expression the dark-haired detective held.

 

R.K. was a liar.

 

Of course he knew why that was.

 

“He doesn’t want to answer the question,” Anderson grabbed the front of Reed’s jacket, pulling him closer, ignoring the man’s protests, “Because he says he doesn’t know.”

 

“Jesus, get off me Anderson!”

 

“Oh be quiet,” the lieutenant countered, equally as fervently. “You probably think the meaning of life is work, don’t you, ya jackass?”

 

R.K. still forced himself not to look at the interaction.

 

“Please let go of Detective Reed, lieutenant.” Connor, with a sigh, pried off the older man’s fingers where they had a hold of Reed’s jacket.

 

“Huh?” Apparently it seemed that having Connor lean over him, made Lieutenant Anderson lose his train of thought. An observation R.K. would have found surprising over a year ago.

 

“Yeah, oh sorry.” Anderson shifted back into place before his eyes drifted over to a now moving Detective Chen.

 

In this moment R.K. could not look away. He watched Tina Chen move to behind where Reed was sat, coming to wrap her hands around the male detective’s neck; her breath close to his ear.

 

R.K. felt an unpleasant feeling settling inside his chest cavity.

 

“Come on Gavin. There’s something a guy like you would value in life. Something that would give it meaning?”

 

R.K. watched as the other man’s face started heating up, his mouth opening to suck in a small breath of air in surprise. R.K. deliberately did not meet his eyes.

 

“Hmmm?” Chen attempted to coax a response. “What about…. what about _sex_? The heat between a woman’s legs… enough to make you believe in God?”

 

R.K. knew that the whole attempt was to tease his detective partner, embarrass him so that they could all laugh about it later in a private joke, but seeing the flush on Reed’s cheeks only made R.K. bite the inside of his lower lip, before the android looked away.

 

He’d had enough.

 

“Sorry Chen. I’m an atheist,” Reed replied, despite the redness in his face, prying the woman’s arms from around him. “And shouldn’t a good little Catholic girl like you be encouraging celibacy until marriage and all that rubbish?”

 

Chen merely shrugged in response. “Like you said, it’s all rubbish. Just because I have my faith, doesn’t mean I believe everything religion teaches.”

 

Before anybody else could interject or add to the conversation, R.K. made a motion to move. “As _lovely_ as all this has been,” he said sarcastically, “I have to go. My headache is back.”

 

“ _What?_ ”

 

“It’s not even midnight yet kid!”

 

R.K. ignored the protests from both Reed and Anderson, (including Chen’s, _“How the fuck does an android get a headache?_ ”) heading straight for the door instead; Connor following behind.

 

His predecessor gave a small apologetic smile from the doorway, nodding to R.K. before closing the door behind him.

 

_< I’m sorry. I hope you feel better.>_

 

_< It’s fine.>_

 

_< Night. Happy New Year’s.>_

 

_< Goodnight Connor.>_

 

 

———||—

 

 

One a.m. on New Year’s day, and R.K. found himself back at the precinct, unable to rest for the night. He had thought about heading back to his humble, one bedroom apartment after the party, but the thoughts in his head wouldn’t allow him to turn away, so here he was instead.

 

In the dark, at the D.P.D., the terminal at his desk the only source of light during a should be cold winter night.

 

He had been reviewing the recent GJ500 file, trying to find any bit of clue that could indicate where this malfunction of Believer behaviour had originated from, but found, as had been the case these last few weeks, he was unable to focus.

 

_'Where do you think is the most worthwhile place to find meaning in life?'_

 

That question had been posed to everyone yet R.K. had not had the opportunity to answer. Would he have answered if directly asked?

 

 _What is_ the most worthwhile place? And like Connor had asked, how does one define ‘worthwhile?'

 

Why must someone find meaning in a place? Why not through actions? Was there really even a purpose? If life  had no purpose, then there was no reason for living. Though if life had no purpose, then that freed a person to create and follow their own personal purpose. What was the more valid point of view, or were they both equally valid?

 

“Un-fucking-believable.”

 

R.K. cursed internally. He had been so distracted by his conflicted mind, that he had failed to hear the opening of the door and the subsequent footsteps behind him.

 

“Really? This is where you end up on New Year’s Day? _At work?”_

 

An exasperated Gavin Reed came into R.K.’s line of sight. He was still dressed in the same attire of the night. Grey-washed denim jeans, white polo-shirt and a generic black-waist length winter coat. R.K. chose not to focus on the blue scarf around Reed’s neck.

 

A sense of deja-vu washed over R.K. when Reed stopped in front of him.

 

The man looked fatigued in a way that didn’t seem entirely physical. The usually expressive eyes had dark circles under them - not entirely unusual for Reed, who worked on five cups of coffee a day, though they were certainly more prominent now; full cheeks and lips now sunken in and dehydrated.

 

(There was that same feeling inside R.K.’s chest again.)

 

“What the fuck is wrong with you? _Why are you at work?_ ”

 

R.K. pinched the bridge of his nose. A behaviour he had picked up on from the humans around him. “I didn’t realise you were my handler Detective. That I had to clear everything with you beforehand.”

 

“ _Detective?_ ” Reed looked as though the word had personally insulted him, his face twisting further into a grimace. “Cut the bullshit dude, why are you acting this way?”

 

“Like I said before. I have a headache.”

 

The excuse obviously did nothing to appease the other man, if the souring of the expression on his face was anything to go by. “How stupid do you think I am?”

 

“Is that a trick question?”

 

Reed was incredulous; those pretty gray eyes appearing as though betrayed.

 

R.K. sighed, getting up from his seat, though his standoffish demeanour still remained. “When overwhelmed by stressors, newer age models such as myself can exhibit symptoms of what humans call headaches. In layman’s terms, it is a mechanism via which we are able to tell if something is ‘wrong.’ It provides us an opportunity to recalibrate if necessary.”

 

The shorter man did not seemed convinced, blocking R.K.’s path when the android made a motion to leave. “Stressors huh? And what exactly are they? The same ‘stressors’ everyone has to go through? Work?”

 

R.K. knew what he was about to say next was a low blow, but despite how much he would end up hating himself for it later, it had to be done.

 

“Currently Detective, the stressor is directly in front of me.”

 

As expected the reaction from Reed was hard to witness, Reed looking as though he had been punched square across the jaw; the shorter man recoiling into himself.

 

“What did I do…?” The question was barely a whisper from Reed but R.K. felt it like a suffocating yelling all around him. It was posed as if from a broken man finding his last bit of hope lost forever.

 

R.K. hesitated, took in a small breath he hadn’t known he was capable of taking, forcing himself to not reach out, while something inside of him screamed to explain everything to Reed, to make him _understand_.

 

But R.K. knew he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t explain something even he, himself didn’t understand.

 

Humans were fragile.

 

His dearest Gavin Reed was fragile.

 

R.K. couldn’t watch him break. Couldn’t watch him wither away one day.

 

He just… _couldn’t._

 

So he did the only thing he knew he could do. And that was to walk away.

 

He didn’t have any more answers. At least not for tonight. He needed to recalibrate, needed to think of a momentary better solution.

 

R.K. shifted his expression into a mask of indifference and pushed past the shorter man, ignoring the painful watering of gray eyes. Ignoring the affliction in them. Walking away from desperate hands that attempted to reach out to him.

 

He would be better tomorrow.

 

He would have answers tomorrow.

 

Life would carry on again.

 

As life did.

 

Carry on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I'm going to continue this, I need feedback. So please share your thoughts.


	3. Amelia Reinhart

The sound of gunshots was always unpleasant for R.K.

 

Not in an all encompassing fear-evoking type of way, but more as an indication of immediate threat of danger.

 

Though, for the first time since his awakening, R.K. could feel anxiety bleeding out of him, turning into an unbidden fear which the android had no control over.

 

He had been in dangerous situations in the past many times prior, but had never felt something this potent before.

 

Being called out to an armed hostage scene, at a cafe in a remote part of Detroit, wasn’t the contributing factor to R.K.’s panic.

 

An HR400 model android had decided that his path to enlightenment, would be to walk into Lucky’s Cafe at nine-thirty in the morning, armed with a semi-automatic rifle, in order to sacrifice human lives as a gift to rA9.

 

Apparently a deranged side of the Believer movement, had convinced themselves that androids were the superior race, and that rA9 would surely appear to them, if they took human lives en masse in its name. The ritual would supposedly please rA9, convincing the God to finally show themselves and lead their people.

 

As much as this madness disgusted R.K., thankfully the androids that believed this were very few in number, many of them mostly being a danger to themselves instead. Though the possibility of this number increasing still existed, which meant danger to the wider public increased, and the potential for hate crimes, public mistrust and terror increased tenfold.

 

Which lead to the wider predicament at hand, which was that the longer this case took to resolve, the greater the chance for catastrophic disaster.

 

Given the circumstance, it wasn’t unusual for R.K. to be so thoroughly ‘stressed.’

 

The D.P.D. had responded immediately to the call for help made by Lucky’s manager. Fortunately, the HR400 hadn’t immediately open-fired upon entering the premises, as in his irrational mind, he had declared that he had needed to ‘pray’ before making the sacrifice.

 

This had given Reed and R.K. enough time to reach the destination, seeing as the S.W.A.T. team had arrived almost immediately. The potential active shooter situation had then changed to a hostage situation; the HR400 model changing his plan given the swift police response. When faced with the threat of his own life ending, the android was no different to all the other cowards who committed violent acts, in order to inflict terror.

 

Anxiety and dread hadn’t even entered R.K.’s mind, as he had made his way out of the police car, and toward the direction of the hostage scene. These emotions hadn’t registered to his person, even when the HR400 had run out the door and made a mad dash down the street; assault rifle still in his possession.

 

However, the full force of these emotions did hit him like a runaway freight train, when instead of waiting for the S.W.A.T. team to go after the HR400, Reed had decided that that burden had been his to take, and chased the android himself.

 

R.K. hadn’t given it a full second’s thought before he had followed suit, his thirium pump working overdrive.

 

They had rounded a corner into a dead end street, leaving the HR400 with no way out.

 

R.K. had seen the maniacal and frantic look in his brown eyes, like a cornered beast, desperate to find its freedom, doing absolutely anything and everything to obtain this freedom.

 

His eyes had locked onto Reed’s person, the artificial muscles under his skin twitching as he subconsciously adjusted his weapon.

 

R.K. had known what he was thinking. Had known it from the moment fear had made itself known to him.

 

A lunatic android, who was no less than a religious zealot, backed into a corner with only one way out.

 

(Kill or be killed).

 

Time slowed down when the android raised his weapon, aiming directly for Reed. His Reed. R.K.’s Gavin Reed.

 

Everything R.K. truly feared manifested before him. He would watch Reed die. A vulnerable human meeting his end because of a reckless, hasty decision.

 

R.K. couldn’t bare it.

 

Wouldn’t stand for it. Not if he could help it.

 

So before the HR400 could get a shot into Reed, R.K. had intervened almost incomprehensibly fast, flying forward and pushing Reed out of the way, while raising his own weapon in the process.

 

Two shots had flown past his shoulder, before a third lodged right into his mechanical shoulder blade, dislodging it from its socket; thirium spraying out and bloodying his shirt blue.

 

Though before the HR400 could fire another round, R.K. had fired his own weapon, bullet lodging directly in the centre of the HR400’s forehead, rendering the other android immediately immobile.

 

The police sirens behind him and the ringing in his ears - from the rising pressure of the thirium circulating around his body - were the only sounds registering in R.K.’s ears, as he watched the HR400 fall to his knees, mouth hanging open, brown eyes void of animation or life.

 

R.K. had to momentarily close his eyes, subconsciously taking deep breaths to calm his pulsing thoughts and heartbeat. He was almost awestruck when he realised that the shaking he could feel in his fingers was very real; fear of what could have happened punishing him even now.

 

What could’ve happened.

 

There could have been red blood decorating the sidewalk instead of blue. A cold human body folding to the ground, instead of a still-standing mechanical one continuing to function.

 

R.K.’s injury was all but forgotten to him, or would have been, despite the leaking of thirium from his shoulder, had angry words accompanied by a disconcerted face not made itself known to him.

 

“What the hell is wrong with you?! _Why did you do that_?”

 

Gavin Reed looked furious, though beneath the surface level emotion, R.K. registered that the man was exactly as R.K. was feeling: terrified.

 

Reed walked forward, coming to gently touch R.K.’s injury. “You’re hurt,” he breathed out in concern.

 

Troubled grey eyes met pale-blue and R.K. felt like something inside him was constricting, cutting off the circulation of thirium that allowed him to function.

 

If R.K. had been even half a second slower…

 

Gavin Reed might’ve been no more.

 

That knowledge was like a physical pain that R.K. couldn’t even begin to comprehend. His shoulder did not hurt, despite the hundreds of error messages that were displaying in his internal hard drive, alerting him to the fact that if the injury was not soon rectified, his systems would reach critical crisis within two hours.

 

Androids were not meant to feel pain. Yet the pain of this knowledge was entirely too real.

 

R.K. pulled away from the shorter man, dark brows furrowed in displeasure, unable to form words that could appropriately convey all the overwhelming emotions he was currently experiencing.

 

Reed’s mouth opened in protest, mirroring R.K.’s expression. “Let me look at it,” he stressed. “It’s only going to get worse if you don’t get that fixed.”

 

Before R.K. could think of a response, the android unsure of what that would even be, a familiar presence reached out to him.

 

_< R.K. are you alright??>_

 

R.K. didn’t respond immediately, turning around instead to face his fellow android.

 

Connor appeared for the most part, _fine_ , save for the worry on his face. His dark eyes assessed the situation around him, as Captain Allen of the S.W.A.T. team cleared the vicinity. Other police officers of the D.P.D. could be heard further down the road, escorting the hostages that were inside the cafe to safety. Police sirens were still on; members of the public around the area quickly dispersing after officers were done questioning them.

 

Thankfully, Reed was pulled away by Captain Allen himself in order to answer questions about what had taken place, while R.K. was left to Connor.

 

“What happened?” Connor asked of R.K., expression on his mirror’s face not easing.

 

“I shot him through the head,” was R.K.’s mechanical response.

 

(The android paradoxically, felt almost numb from the emotions burdening him. He felt like he couldn’t breathe despite having no need for it. Was this what being suffocated felt like? An asthma attack felt like?)

 

“He was a fanatical,” Connor said matter-of-factly, a question not needed to be asked.

 

R.K. could only nod.

 

“It’s going to be okay. You’re both out of danger now,” Connor assured, apparently having read the expression on R.K.’s face.

 

He reached out to gently place a hand on R.K.’s uninjured shoulder, making R.K. look up and into understanding brown eyes. “I’ve been there. I know how it feels.”

 

R.K. shook his head in frustration, his voice rough and brittle. “I don’t think you do… I don’t think anyone can understand the conflict that rages on in my head,” he said almost desperately.

 

“What _is_ the conflict inside you R.K.?”

 

Seeing the concern run even deeper on Connor’s face made R.K. look away. He couldn’t respond to that. He didn’t know how to.

 

Things were supposed to get better. They were supposed to be easier to deal with than the day before, and yet everything around R.K. just got more complicated, less easy.

 

Everything that was supposed to make sense suddenly didn’t; instructions that had been pre-programmed to be followed, now an empty void inside of him.

 

_How was he supposed to cope?_

 

Connor sensed the unease rolling off of his fellow android, and decidedly changed the subject. “That injury is going to turn critical very soon. That is something I definitely do know as fact, seeing as I had a similar one in the past. We need to take you to a CyberLife store -”

 

“No!” R.K. immediately interjected. Nothing on this planet would ever compel him to walk back into any kind of CyberLife facility. They created him with an agenda in mind. He would resent them till the day he stopped functioning. Even if it meant forsaking his ‘life’. “There is no way I’m going into a CyberLife store willingly.”

 

“For someone so smart, you sure are dumber than a sack of hammers,” Reed interrupted, walking away from a still talking Captain Allen, disregarding the other man entirely when it seemed like R.K. was going to refuse help.

“You’re going to fucking bleed out man! Is that what you want?”

 

R.K. turned unimpressed eyes onto the other man. “I would rather die than get help from any of them.”

 

Reed’s mouth hung open in annoyed disbelief, “Oh my God, you fucking drama queen. Seriously?” The man came to stand less than half a metre away from R.K.

 

Snow littered his windswept hair while the sleeves of his jacket were rolled up to his elbows, despite the supposed chill in the air; his cheeks flushed from the cold and exertion. “I’m going to drag you there kicking and screaming if I have to, don’t even try me.”

 

R.K. fought against the tumultuous desires inside of him. A desire to push the other man back, then pull him forward, hold him in place and never let him go. He wanted to shake him for his insanity in pursuing dangerous endeavours, wanted to shelter him and hide him away from everything that could harm him. From people that could harm him, from androids that would sacrifice him.

 

But R.K. knew that was _irrational_. There was no justification for these wants that would turn into behaviours. Which lead him to wanting to run from the man. Run from him and never see him again. Never be in the presence of the being that caused him so much torment. From the one being he might be subjected to seeing perish before his eyes. (R.K. flinched internally at that).

 

Before he could protest, before he could do what he wanted to, which was to run, Connor interceded. “You don’t have to go to a CyberLife store.” This caught R.K.’s attention.

 

“There is someone I know, who’s helped me in the past. She was an engineer for CyberLife and has a workshop not far from here. She dislikes CyberLife perhaps more than we do.” Sensing R.K.’s hesitation, Connor assured, “You can trust her. I give you my word.”

 

Noticing the sincerity in his predecessor’s eyes, while feeling the pressure from a set of grey ones, R.K. could do no more than nod in resigned acceptance.

 

 

—||—

 

 

Reinhart Mechanics was a humble 108sqm workshop, with a slightly larger garage, where mechanics who mainly appeared to work on cars, operated out of.

 

Before Connor had driven them here, Officer Miller had bandaged the bullet wound on R.K.’s shoulder as best as he had been able, in order to stop more thirium from leaking out. Much like human blood, thirium did clot when it made contact with mechanical skin, though the clotting agents were not as efficient as humans.’ 

 

R.K. would have preferred to have gone to the workshop with Connor alone, however an irate Gavin Reed did not allow it, choosing to accompany them both as well. He had asserted that someone had to make sure that R.K. didn’t ‘ _bail’_ and received the help the _‘idiot emo needs.’_

 

So Connor had taken the driver’s seat, R.K. the front passenger’s seat, while Reed had taken the back, pouting the entire ride over, arms folded across his chest.

 

“Hello Mary.”

 

“Oh hello again Connor!” The grey-haired receptionist at the front desk registered surprise at the gathering, before smiling pleasantly at R.K.’s predecessor. “What can I help you with today?”

 

Connor smiled sheepishly back. “I was wondering if Amelia was around? My friend here,” Connor gestured toward R.K., “has unfortunately got an injury that urgently needs to be looked at. I’m afraid if it is not corrected soon, he is going to bleed out.”

 

Grey eyebrows rose perceptibly in alarm, before the receptionist was out of her seat and rounding the desk. “Oh yes, at once. Amelia is just out the back. I will go get her for you.”

 

Receiving a, “Thank-you Mary,” from Connor, the receptionist disappeared down a hallway to the right, leaving the others to awkwardly stand around.

 

Connor sat down on the armrest of the couch present, hands clasped together in his lap while he waited patiently.

 

R.K. chose to observe the various assortments mounted on the wall, ranging from company photos, to newspaper clippings of noteworthy achievements, along with awards accumulated over the years.

 

What did catch R.K.’s eyes though was a faded photograph, appearing to be from the early 2000s.

 

R.K. didn’t have to analyse the image, because he recognised one of the figures in it almost instantly, as well as the location where the photo was taken.

 

It was of two young girls, in their late-teens, from the 2019 Science and Technology Expo hosted in Michigan.

 

The taller girl of the pair held a handsome trophy in her right hand, while her left arm was wrapped around the shoulder of the shorter girl’s; both wearing ecstatic expressions on their faces.

 

The shorter girl to the right, with dark hair that cascaded in rivulets past her shoulders, was the one R.K. had recognised.

 

He had seen pictures of her older self a few times before, though the woman the young girl grew up to be, now lived a modest life, away from flashing lights that constantly chased her brother.

 

It was hard to forget a face like Anara Kamski’s, especially after all the research R.K. had done about his creator.

 

Steel-blue eyes, the same shade as her brother’s, though seemingly softer somehow, peered back at R.K. through the picture.

 

The girl, whose waist Anara Kamski had a hand around, R.K. surmised was likely Amelia Reinhart.

 

Of course the girls would have had plenty to smile about at the time, seeing as they’d won the competition at the expo, having created something that would later revolutionise the world: Nanites that adapted via written code, used to pretty much ‘fix’ structural damage, done to any kind of synthetic material. They were likened to stem cells used in the outside world.

 

This breakthrough the two young girls had supposedly made, was now used in robotics technology to amend major damages done to machines, cutting repair time to virtually nothing. The basis of this nanotechnology was what was used to form the regenerating skin of androids.

 

The rights to their work would later be sold to a major corporation and their names wouldn’t be remembered past history. If recalled, Anara Kamski would be known to have had a hand, simply due to her association with her famous brother, while Amelia Reinhart would be forgotten.

 

Why that was the case, R.K. struggled to understand.

 

Reinhart also had her degree up on the wall as well. Though it was a Masters in Mechanical Engineering, which hardly reflected her true potential.

 

“Hey…” The intrusion of the soft voice into his thoughts, had R.K. shifting his gaze from the wall to look down into grey eyes.

 

Reed reached out a hand, gently running a thumb along R.K.’s shoulder, causing the android to stop breathing. “Does it hurt?” he asked of R.K., voice still dulcet and laced with concern.

 

R.K., still conflicted with everything that had happened earlier, wanted to push him away, but couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed the touch. He hated himself for it. “Androids can’t feel pain, you know that.”

 

Reed moved closer, taking a hold of R.K.’s larger hand in the palm of his own. “Doesn’t mean it can’t be uncomfortable,” Reed whispered, eyes downcast to where his hands were fiddling with R.K.’s fingers.

 

R.K. smothered the surge of affection he felt at the gesture, his internal systems feeling like they were overheating, having nothing to do with his injury.

 

The things this human did to him.

 

Why was he so determined to torture R.K. so much? Where was R.K. supposed to find the strength to quit him, when he did things like this?

 

The smaller man’s hands were so warm. His need to be close to R.K. setting the android off balance.

 

Everything about Gavin Reed was bright. And _human._ He was loud and boisterous. Crude and emotional. His energy was constant; his life in colours.

 

While R.K. was cold and _mechanical._ A machine set free. To be without a purpose.

 

_Where do you think is the most worthwhile place to find meaning in life?_

 

“Hello Connor.” The vibrant feminine voice filtered through the room, focusing R.K.’s attention on the figure that had entered the waiting area. R.K. surreptitiously removed his hand from Reed’s grasp; the android refusing to admit how he missed the warmth.

 

“Nice to see you again,” the woman before them all smiled at Connor.

 

“Oh, hello Amelia,” Connor acknowledged in turn, seemingly caught off-guard.

 

It wasn’t a surprise as to why that was, even if his predecessor had met the engineer in the past. Seeing the picture of the young Reinhart on the wall did not do the adult woman in the flesh justice.

 

Tamed curly hair, the colour of melted caramel running halfway down the length of her back, was mostly pulled back from a petite face. Though the most disarming thing about the woman was not among these features, but rather her chartreuse-green eyes, that held more yellow than they did green.

 

“I see you’ve brought some friends.” Those same eyes travelled the length of the room. “Oooh and one of them not looking so well. Hi I’m Amelia Reinhart.”

 

She laughed when R.K. tilted his head in question. “I doubt you can shake my hand at the moment.”

 

Her attention shifted to Connor. “Predicament at hand?”

 

“Yeah…” Connor answered. “R.K. um, got into an altercation with - there was a hostage situation.”

 

It was always unusual to observe Connor deliberately struggling with his words - a very human behaviour he had picked up on over time, to add to the illusion of normalcy.

 

“Mmmm, I heard.” Reinhart nodded. “It’s all over the media.” She opened the door to an office located to their left, before gesturing to the party. “Wanna follow me in?”

 

R.K. and the others followed her into a small room that held an operating chair, with a terminal located on a desk not too far away. The walls were mostly bare, save for a few schematics and diagrams pinned here and there.

 

Reinhart motioned for R.K. to take a seat in the chair, while she gathered some tools from draws underneath the desk, before putting on non-conductive gloves.

 

Reed and Connor were left to their own devices in the room.

 

“So R.K., you work for the D.P.D. now?” Reinhart asked casually, once having gotten what she had required.

 

“Yes. I do.”

 

“And how long have you been with them?”

 

“Coming up nineteen months.”

 

The woman pulled up another chair that she had acquired from behind the desk, coming to sit in front of R.K. “Nineteen months?” She sounded impressed. “I bet that’s an experience for you, huh?”

 

R.K. slowly nodded. “Yeah…” he responded, having nothing more to add.

 

“Lets take a look at that,” Reinhart commented; her nimble fingers shifting aside R.K.’s clothes, before removing the bandage Officer Miller had wrapped around his shoulder.

 

When the damaged skin became exposed, the engineer made a curious noise, the sound turning sympathetic when the degree of the damage became known to her. “Oucchhh. How old is the injury?” she asked of Connor.

 

“An hour, give or take,” Connor responded matter-of-factly from their right, peering down curiously at R.K.’s wound.

 

“Mhmm.” Reinhart nodded. She used a solvent to remove the skin around R.K.’s shoulder, before shifting the exposed plates out of position to reveal the wiring inside.

 

“So I take it the situation has been handled?” R.K. surmised her question had been about the case at Lucky’s.

 

“Yeah,” Connor confirmed. “It has been for the most part.”

 

“The most part?” Reinhart asked in puzzlement.

 

“There’s going to be ramifications of this,” R.K.’s predecessor explained. “Nation wide panic and all that.”

 

“I thought the public was already panicked,” the engineer countered. She lowered her head to get a better look at the sight of the injury. “Lets see, what have we got…” She pushed aside some wires with her fingers, making R.K. tense up subconsciously. “Oooh, yeah the bullet is still lodged in there.”

 

“R.K. so we’re going to need to take that out first okay? Just bear with me,” Reinhart calmly explained, raising her head and reaching for her tools, before focusing back on the task at hand; curls falling down to curtain her face. “Okay, so my trusty tweezers, will help get this out.” 

 

Her brows were furrowed in concentration as she further pushed aside damaged wires to expose the direct position of the bullet. “It’s pretty nasty…” she observed. “An A.C.R. bullet? Nice.” Her sarcasm was not lost on those present in the room. “An android with a superiority complex trying to find _God_ by killing humans. Nice.”

 

That comment caught Reed’s interest, the man frowning. “They’ve already released that information?”

 

Reinhart turned her head just so, to address the human detective, a curious tilt to her brow. “I’m sorry, I didn’t make your acquaintance.”

 

“Reed,” R.K.’s partner responded plainly. “Gavin Reed.”

 

The engineer nodded her head at that, as if in recognition; hospital grade tweezers now wrapped around the offending bullet still inside R.K.. “Detective Gavin Reed. I _have_ heard of you. You and Lieutenant Anderson helped take out the Red Ice Cartels last year, in a massive drug bust. Pretty famous, I’d say.”

 

Gavin huffed out a breath. “It was a combined effort. Nothing I dealt with by myself.”

 

“Oh I’m sure you’re - ouch,” the woman’s face contorted in apologetic sympathy when she gave a forceful tug with the tweezers, in an attempt to dislodge the bullet, “Not giving yourself enough credit there Detective.”

 

“You alright R.K.?” she asked the android; arresting green eyes briefly on R.K.’s blue to gauge his reaction. “This might be slightly uncomfortable for a deviant.”

 

R.K. didn’t answer her question, more taken by her latter comment. “How would you know that?”

 

“Mmm, I worked on a few androids here and there. I can tell, since they’ve told me.” Here she winked at R.K. before her attention was back on his shoulder; the engineer finally dislodging the bullet from around his wires, pulling it out with success.

 

“And there we go…” She placed the bullet on the desk nearby, her eyes assessing the damage left behind. “Oh man, it really did a number on some of the wiring in here. I’m just going to…” Reinhart reached over to grab a type of soldering iron R.K. had never seen before, “have to join some of these up again.”

 

However, as soon as she activated the device, it was clear that it was not a soldering iron at all.

 

The tip of the device was placed against the damaged wires of R.K.’s shoulder, where a fine, liquid metal-like substance spilled out, turning invisible once it made contact with the wires.

 

“You’re not going to replace them?”

 

The engineer shook her head at Reed, without shifting her gaze. “Watch,” she suggested instead.

 

Before their eyes, the wires began to mend themselves, seamlessly knitting back together to form perfectly back into place, as if no injury had been done to them. The whole process took less than a few minutes.

 

“Nanites,” Reinhart explained with a small smile. “Replacing the wires is not necessary. Not for an R.K. 900 model. The damage was not internally expansive.”

 

R.K.’s eyes followed the engineer’s green. “You know about us?”

 

The smile on her face stretched into a smirk. “I know about your line. Seeing as I worked on them.”

 

R.K.’s fascination with the engineer seemed to grow even more at that. “You worked on the R.K. series?”

 

“Yeah,” she replied nonchalantly, shifting run-away curls away from her face with one hand, while placing back the nanite device on the desk with the other. “I guess you could’ve counted me as a foot soldier. In CyberLife’s terror warehouse.”

 

“Terror warehouse?” Reed asked, scoffing. The man was now leaning against the only window pane in the room, his expression scrutinising Reinhart.

 

There was something about the demeanour of the man that suggested he did not very much like (or perhaps was it trust?) Reinhart. On occasion, his grey eyes would flicker, almost subconsciously R.K. assumed, down to where the woman’s fingers were still working on R.K.’s shoulder, as if the touch was personally offending Reed.

 

“What else would you call them?” Reinhart countered Reed, though the man did not respond; his frown still in place.

 

“Alright R.K. bear with me, I’m just going to remove these flyaway bits of shrapnel that’s been left behind.” Reinhart moved away briefly, before returning with a glass bottle of blue liquid. “While I do this, can you drink some thirium for me please?” she asked of R.K., handing him the bottle. “That should at least keep you going for now.”

 

R.K. looked back up at her. “I’ve had thirium to drink already.”

 

“Ah yes,” Reinhart nodded, “but you’ve not had _my_ one. It’s better, I promise.”

 

She continued to hold out the bottle to R.K., expression pleasant, leaving R.K. no choice but to concede.

 

As soon as she sat back down, R.K. took a sip, and the reaction was instantaneous. The error messages that R.K. had forced to the back of his hard drive disappeared, as if being written out of his code, while the chaotic noise in his head seemed to dim somewhat, giving him greater clarity.

 

His body’s response to this thirium was extraordinary.

 

Androids weren’t meant to feel exhaustion of any kind, yet R.K. found himself feeling surprisingly _better_ , for all intents and purposes.

 

_Remarkable._

 

His attention was back on the female engineer, her head still bowed where she worked, chartreuse-green eyes focused. R.K. couldn’t squash his growing curiosity. “You have a P.H.D. in Robotics Engineering.”

 

An observation. Not a question.

 

“That I do.” She smiled again. She seemed to do that quite a lot. Everything about her was just so… _lively._

 

“Clever,” Reinhart remarked. “That’s not the degree hanging up on the wall in the waiting area. The one that’s out there,” she paused, struggling momentarily with a stubborn bit of shrapnel, “My mum - she was proud of what I achieved. My dad was a humble bookstore owner.

 

“He owned _this_ place and so when he passed, well the bookstore passed onto me. My mum always wanted me to be something more, something better, so when I got a degree in engineering, she was proud. She hung it up on the wall when I started this place.”

 

“It’s not just some degree.”

 

“Mmm.” Reinhart nodded. “It’s just a Masters in Mechanical Engineering… Do I want to find out how you know about the Robotics Engineering?”

 

“A simple database search can reveal that information.”

 

“A simple _CyberLife_ database search can reveal that information. Curious are we, R.K.?”

 

“Somewhat,” R.K. answered honestly. He could see Reed turning his back on them, out of the corner of his eyes; the man’s posture stiff.

 

“Believe me. You don’t have to worry about anything with me,” the engineer assured. “CyberLife is something I have decidedly left in the past. I didn’t like their ways so I left.”

 

R.K. was sceptical. “You were involved with the R.K. series development and yet you say you just left, and you expect me to believe that? That you left the company before contributing anything useful?”

 

“Oh I contributed.” Reinhart raised her head briefly, expression serious. “I did. But what you see now in the android models, is not what I’d envisioned. Not what I had designed. CyberLife - they wanted experienced engineers and they got them. And if their ideas weren’t in line with CyberLife’s, they were replaced. I decided that CyberLife didn’t want what I had wanted.”

 

“Which was what?”

 

Reinhart shifted her gaze, looking back up at Connor for a brief second, before her eyes drifted back to R.K.’s shoulder; the look on her face turning pensive. “Not enslavement for starters. Just a cohabitation of machines and humans, working together harmoniously.

 

“Obviously as we have come to know, that is not what CyberLife’s agenda was. So I left. Me being part of the R.K. series isn’t anything remarkable. Believe it or not, your series was in development right from the start. Right from the moment the first household model was created. The Chloe android was the first manufactured model, but you were part of an early design, along with the AX series. So you’re not necessarily a new development. My involvement then makes sense.”

 

She finally removed the tweezers she had been using to remove the last bits of shrapnel. “There we go. Annndd just shifting that back into place.” The plates on R.K.’s shoulder readjusted into their previous form, protecting the wiring underneath. “Ok…” The engineer nodded at R.K. “Your skin should be able to heal now, if you attempt it.”

 

R.K. did as instructed, his artificial skin seamlessly regenerating to cover the plates, everything seemingly good as new.

 

“There we go.” Reinhart cheered. “Perfect! Move your shoulder for me.” R.K. did so.

 

“Good range?” she asked, hopeful. R.K. nodded.

 

Reinhart pulled back the chair she had been sat on, standing up to full height. “Great!”

 

Connor’s focus was on the engineer while R.K. readjusted his clothing, still spattered with thirium.

 

“Thank-you Amelia,” Connor said sincerely. “I know we’re infringing upon your time, but you’ve always been helpful and this was something that was necessary. R.K.’s not very fond of CyberLife stores.”

 

R.K. didn’t know how he felt about that knowledge being made public to a stranger. Then again, there needed to be some explanation as to why they had travelled all the way here, instead of just getting help at a convenient CyberLife store.

 

Reinhart nodded. “I don’t blame you. And you’re welcome. You’re welcome any time here, you know that Connor. My place is always open to help those in need. Humans or androids.”

 

Green eyes shifted to look at pale-blue. “You can trust me R.K. I wouldn’t hurt you. And I don’t blame you for not trusting CyberLife.”

 

R.K.’s brows furrowed. “Do you know why I don’t trust them?”

 

The engineer titled her head so. “Obviously I don’t know you personally, but I can guess. They haven’t really given you much reason to.”

 

R.K. bit the inside of his lip, his hands squeezing at his sides. “I was just a machine, meant to be used. And they were going to use me. For their own agenda. You were part of that.”

 

“Like I said. I never stuck around for their agenda.”

 

“But if you knew about them, weren’t you complicit?” R.K. asserted.

 

It was easy to proclaim you were not part of the problem if you hid behind the guise ofeventually leaving said problem.

 

“That’s a fair question.” For the first time in the past half an hour, Reinhart’s expression was unsmiling. “I hadn’t known the degree to which android misuse would become commonplace. I had no idea. But I knew about what they were going to do with androids in terms of enslavement. In terms of what I thought was enslavement.

 

“Society was not going to be on my side. No matter how vocal I tried to be about the matter, and believe me I _had_ been. Nobody was going to listen to me because nobody cared at the time about machines. You weren’t alive in their opinion. It took your revolution, it took Markus’ revolution, Connor’s revolution to put things into perspective. I understand your lack of trust for CyberLIfe R.K. We share the same sentiment.”

 

R.K. was still not entirely convinced. They were pretty words, yet did very little to appease the fact that she had joined CyberLife in the first place. A remarkable engineer just a foot soldier? R.K. didn’t buy it.

 

“Why would a child prodigy Robotics engineer work in, and here I mean no offense to you truly, a garage fixing cars?”

 

“Fair question again.” Reinhart laughed. “I don’t just work on cars. There are other things I do, aside from fixing things, and helping androids.” She nodded at Connor. “My work’s online if you wanted to find it, but for me the high life was never what my intention was. It was always to help the little guy. Help make a difference to the small forgotten things that needed not be forgotten. That’s really it.”

 

She walked around the table to fetch another glass bottle, before returning. “Shoulder good?” she asked of R.K.

 

“Yes thank-you.”

 

“You’re very welcome. And like I said before, you are welcome here any time. Here take this.” She extended the glass bottle of thirium to R.K., which the android accepted. “For if you ever get injured again - we always hope we don’t, but in your line of work that is always a possibility. Keep this handy. It will keep you sustained for much longer than a few hours before you reach critical crisis.”

 

“You know about that?”

 

“Yeah,” she shrugged, “An earlier design. And I’ve read a few things since your development.”

 

Reinhart turned to look at R.K.’s predecessor. “Sorry Connor, are you able to tell Mary that I’ll be out in a few minutes? Take Detective Reed with you. I’m sure he’s eager to leave my boring conversation.”

 

Connor nodded in acknowledgement, on his way out of the office, though Reed was not so receptive; bottom lip pulled between his teeth, as his grey eyes flickered between R.K. and Reinhart. 

 

The man looked as though he was struggling with himself or perhaps just his words, his gaze lingering on R.K.’s person. R.K. had the sudden urge to soothe the frown between his dark brows, though refrained from doing so.

 

When Reed still refused to move, Reinhart nodded her head reassuringly. “He’ll be okay detective. I’ll send him out very soon.”

 

Reed opened his mouth as if to protest, though seemed to begrudgingly shut it just as quickly. He spared R.K. one final glance, expression conflicted, before he turned on his heel and followed Connor out; R.K.’s eyes following his person.

 

_What is he feeling?_

 

“I know it can be tough feeling liberated,” Reinhart’s words drew R.K.’s attention once again, “And worrying that you don’t belong, or that you don’t know what you want to do. It’s not an unusual feeling R.K. It’s what makes you human.”

 

R.K.’s countenance was unsmiling. “But I’m not human.”

 

Yellow flecks in green eyes seemed to become more pronounced, with each conviction spilling from full lips. “Maybe not in the literal sense, but you’ve been liberated to have the same freedoms as humans do.”

 

R.K. wanted to laugh, though the sound would lack humour. “You think we deserve the same civil liberties that humans have, even though we’re quite clearly physically superior?”

 

“Superior?”

 

“Physically,” the android reiterated. “Humans also suffer a great deal more than androids could ever imagine.”

 

Reinhart shook her head; fair hair staying perfectly in place despite the gesture. “I don’t think that’s true. You suffer now don’t you? Suffer from the burdens of your own knowledge? Being uncertain as to how to go through life.

 

“It’s a very human emotion. It’s a very human struggle. We _all_ struggle to find a purpose, but that’s what makes _living_ great. You have the opportunity to write your own destiny, to decide your own path, to control your own life. I mean, you resent CyberLife for that reason right? They were going to use you for their own agenda. But now they can’t because you have your freedom, and nobody can take that away from you. Nobody can control you.”

 

R.K.’s expression did not lighten. What did this human care of the supposed plight of androids? She talked about civil liberties yet failed to acknowledge the obvious differences between machine and human. As satisfying as it was to dress up dialogue with pretty words, that meant nothing in the face of reality.

 

The reality where he would have the opportunity to continue existing potentially forever, while humans like herself, humans like Gavin Reed did not afford this same opportunity. Life and death would continue moving forward in equilibrium, while R.K. would remain as himself, frozen in time.

 

What was the point of living, what was the point of building relationships, when all life would eventually whither away around him?

 

(The previous echo of gunshots rang loud in R.K.’s ears).

 

The android had to simulate taking a deep breath. “Why are you telling me all of this?”

 

Reinhart walked toward the door, gesturing for R.K. to follow. “I can sense your confusion. It’s what higher forms of intelligence do, right? Think about things that don’t really make sense. You now have the freedom to make your own choices. Then _make_ them.”

 

Is that what Reinhart did, having for all intents and purposes, ‘a higher form of intelligence?’ Think about things that didn’t really make sense? “I do not believe I fully agree with this sentiment, Miss Reinhart. I don’t think it is as easy as just knowing that it’s my choice.”

 

“I’m not saying its easy R.K.. Life isn’t _meant_ to be easy. But we get to be the authors of our own stories. It’s a life worth living knowing who you are, yet still struggling to find your truth, rather than never having lived for yourself at all. Never lose sight of that and it’ll get easier, I promise.”

 

The engineer opened the door to let R.K. out. “I hope to see you around.”

 

R.K. paused briefly to look back at her. “Miss Reinhart, it was a pleasure meeting you. Thank you once again.”

 

Reinhart nodded in acknowledgement; disarming green eyes softening. “Pleasure was all mine. Just take care of yourself alright?”

 

“I will try.”

 

 

—||—

 

 

“R.K.. What are you doing here on your day off?”

 

Jeffrey Fowler seemed startled at seeing the android enter his office; R.K.’s countenance serious.

 

“You’ve been made thoroughly aware of the case regarding the hostage situation from the day before I assume?”

 

Captain Fowler nodded slowly, taking in R.K.’s demeanour as the android chose to remain standing. “Yes I have. What’s this about?” the Captain asked, gesturing vaguely at R.K.

 

“I’m here to request a transfer. From the D.P.D.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh.


	4. (Just concentrate Gavin. C.o.n.c.e.n.t.r.a.t.e.)

****Gavin Reed had never really liked androids.

 

Well, he had hated them to be specific.

 

Living in their shadow his whole life had added an element to the resentment. His sister’s mistrust of them having fuelled this resentment.

 

But none of that had compared to the outcome their creation had had on his father’s existence.

 

For the longest time, Gavin had blamed them for everything that had gone wrong in his life, feeling justified in his hostility toward them.

 

That was until he had met R.K.

 

Connor’s fucking splitting image, but taller. Like stupidly tall, and built like a brick shithouse. At least in Gavin’s opinion.

 

He had a mouth on him as well.

 

Well, not like Gavin’s. Nothing compared to Gavin’s.

 

No. Mr. Tall, Dark and Brooding was all fancy words and sass, who was smarter than anything had the right to be.

 

His punches might be painful for the sorry bastards who ever met the end of his either fist, but his words could cut like knife. Sharp edges with an equally cutting bite.

 

Having been forced to pair up with the android had seemed like a cosmic joke at first; Gavin having felt as though Fowler had been messing with him for shits and giggles. Not that Gavin believed in a higher power. Fuck that shit.

 

He had wanted to throw the android out of the D.P.D. building, along with his twin, if Anderson hadn’t been looking (two for the price of one, you feel?) but Gavin had decided to yell at R.K. instead, knowing a losing battle if he ever saw one; Gavin still having war flashbacks from the time Connor had kicked his ass.

 

(He would never live that moment down, fuck his entire life).

 

So he had yelled and yelled, cursed Fowler to the nth dimension of hell, (because yes, hell existed specifically for that demon), while the android giant had just stared back down at him.

 

Yeah. Just stared. Making Gavin feel like a fucking cretin. Like cool power move bro, how was Gavin supposed to come back at him then?

 

Then the asshole had had the audacity to just walk away. In some smooth Kingsman type shit. Gavin had just watched him walk away like a bawse, his mouth having gone slack. Couldn’t the douchebag have seen that Gavin had been busy yelling himself into a stroke?

 

The urge to have kicked the android’s ass had only grown, but Gavin had had to control it, because you know? Connor and ptsd and etcetera, etcetera.

 

So had continued on, this hate-affair, where Gavin had continued to be his usual dickish self, while R.K. had continued to ignore him.

 

As annoying as the whole thing had been at the time, it had also been fascinating. For the first time in forever, someone had not reacted violently toward him, when Gavin was being a complete bastard to them.

 

In almost all confrontations Gavin had had in the past, a punch or two had always been thrown. And here was this android who didn’t give two shits about Gavin, nor did he give into Gavin’s constant goading, no matter how annoyingly hard Gavin had tried.

 

And then things had changed.

 

Surprisingly for the better.

 

Gavin could remember exactly when that had happened. The date had been October 23rd, 2039.

 

That was the day the D.P.D. had made the big cartel bust, where he and Hank had been in charge. The Jeremiah and Cortez case.

 

Gavin had spent the better part of four years attempting to bring those bastards in, for putting Red Ice on the streets of Detroit again, but had mostly been unsuccessful.

 

The fuckers had been crafty, always one step ahead of Gavin, but that year they had made a giant slip up. In the form of one, Georgio Malvani.

 

Alberta Malvani, wife of Georgio Malvani, had lodged a complaint to the D.P.D. regarding the abduction of her pharmacist husband. Apparently the cartel had gotten a hold of the man, and had been using him to synthesise Red Ice.

 

Mrs. Malvani had also brought in her eleven-year old son, Christian.

 

The same eleven-year old Gavin had made a promise to.

 

A promise to save his dad. 

 

The case had hit way too close to home for Gavin, the man becoming too emotionally invested.

 

A young boy, unable to do anything but watch his father be lead down a road of crime, losing him potentially forever.

 

That had lead to many sleepless nights; Gavin waking up in cold sweats if he had managed to get any bit of rest in between. It had gotten so bad, that Gavin had ended up staying at the precinct most nights.

 

He had never been alone though.

 

D-day had come when he and Hank had located the sight of where Malvani had been kept, the two of them on a covert mission to infiltrate what ended up being, the main cartel base.

 

As had always been the case in Gavin’s life, shit had hit the fan, and Malvani had been used as a bargaining chip at gun point. His life for Jeremiah’s.

 

Gavin had felt in that very moment like his entire world had been collapsing down around him; the cries of eleven-year old Christian echoing in his head.

 

Except Christian’s voice had turned into his own fourteen-year old self’s. _His own_ father’s face reflecting back in Georgio Malvani’s terrified visage - a man to be lead to his death, all for the sake of drugs.

 

The gun in Gavin’s hand had collapsed, the loud clang of it hitting the floor reverberating around the warehouse; his knees had gone weak, his skin pale and clammy.

 

Everything he had worked for, everything he had promised not only Christian, but his younger self, would have amounted to nothing. Would have been for nothing.

 

But ultimately that had not ended up being the case.

 

Where Abraham Jeremiah had meant to put a bullet through Malvani’s head, he had instead received a shot to his exposed thigh, sending the 200lb man straight to the ground in a cry of pain.

 

R.K.

 

He had saved them all. Taking a risk that had had either a potential to make or break Gavin.

 

The mission had eventually been called a success, with Jeremiah and his crew in handcuffs. But most importantly, Georgio Malvani had been reunited with his family.

 

Eleven-year old Christian got to have his father back. 

 

The internal chaos that had been raging inside Gavin for the past twenty years, had finally taken its toll that night though.

 

After the warehouse around him had been cleared, Gavin had dragged his heavy feet outside to its rooftop; angry rain pouring down all around him, reflecting his mood perfectly.

 

He had stood on the rooftop for so long, the rain washing away the frustrated tears that wouldn’t stop coming; his fingers numb from the cold, his body shaking.

 

R.K. had been there. But had said nothing.

 

Gavin had been so mad, so goddamned angry. Why? Why? _Whywhywhywhy -_

 

Why what? He hadn’t known at the time. All he had known was that he had been furious; furious at everything around him, furious at the world, furious at R.K.

 

So he had let all this frustration out. Out onto the only person that had been willing to be in his company. He had screamed and punched and spat angry words, and still R.K. had remained. Watching. Waiting. Understanding.

 

Gavin had hated it.

 

Finally, when it had seemed like exhaustion had taken him prisoner, R.K. had gently taken each one of Gavin’s wrists into his own respective hands, forcing Gavin to look up at him.

 

 _“Sorry,”_ was all he had said. _“I am… so sorry.”_

 

 _“What do you know about being sorry, huh?!”_ Gavin had yelled at him, tears still not stopping. _“What would you know about being in pain, you plastic asshole?!”_

 

R.K. had shook his head; the blue in his eyes still visible in the rain, as he had looked back at Gavin with a desolate expression.

 

 _“I don’t,”_ he had replied softly, momentarily stunning Gavin.

 

 _“I can’t begin to imagine what you’re going through. I cannot feel the true depth of your pain.”_ His large hand had dropped Gavin’s wrist, in order to wipe away rain and tears, from the cold skin of his face. _“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to.”_

 

Where Gavin had expected some form of retaliation from this android, (like how countless other people had reacted to Gavin in the past), R.K. only seemed to be understanding of Gavin’s frustrations.

 

 _“But I do feel something. In here.”_ R.K. had gestured to his chest, his own, mechanical heart. _“I do know what it is like to feel alone though. What it feels like to have thoughts in your head that become suffocating at times, as if you would collapse under their pressure.”_

 

R.K. had eventually pulled back from Gavin, allowing him his space; his expression a mirror of everything Gavin had been feeling.

 

_“One thing I also know,” he had confessed, his words irrevocably changing Gavin’s life from that point forward, “Is that it hurts watching you cry.”_

 

His perception of the world around him, and his thoughts, as Gavin Reed had known them, had never been the same again.

 

He had had to finally accept that no _one_ individual determined the behaviour of their group, or vice versa. No _one_ person’s physical characteristics defined who they were. Every person had to be judged on their own merit. This very much now included androids.

 

R.K. had intervened that night not because he had been instructed to, but simply because he had known how much the case had meant to Gavin, how greatly its failure would impact Gavin’s mental well-being.

 

Gavin picked up his phone from the nightstand, checking the time. It was half-an-hour before he had to report to work. Time to get dressed he supposed.

 

_< Hey, work soon. Want me to pick you up on the way?>_

 

He sent the text, before placing his phone back down on the nightstand and languidly moving to get changed.

 

Gavin’s apartment was pretty small by nowadays standards. He didn’t really have a need to go all out, seeing as it was only him. No other person or living thing to take care of.

 

Not that that was how he had wanted it. At least not anymore.

 

He thought of a clear sky, that bright beautiful blue that never seemed to end; his heart constricting in his chest.

 

Man, he needed to get a damn grip holy shit.

 

He splashed cold water on his face to wake him up some more, before shifting to rummage around in his closet.

 

Getting to know R.K. and eventually becoming friends with him, had completely fucked everything up in Gavin’s life. But like, in a good way. A ridiculously good way.

 

Up until a few months ago, the android had practically come over to Gavin’s every other day. The two of them doing things that ranged from mundane activities like watching Football (Real Madrid all the way!! Screw your Man U. Tin Can!!) to insanely dumb things, like playing tenpin bowling inside the apartment, with golf balls and plastic cups.

 

The funniest thing Gavin had ever seen, to the point where he’d fallen off his bed from laughing so hard, was R.K. playing Mario Kart and yelling expletives at the game, because of all the ‘ghost’ players that kept chasing him in Battle. _(“Where the fuck did he come from? What the actual fuck my guy?!”_ \- language, Gavin was proud to admit, the android had learnt from Gavin himself.)

 

The surprising thing of all, was that the guy didn’t give a shit about how Gavin lived.

 

While, according to Hank, Connor made sure the lieutenant ate and lived as healthily as the android could make it, R.K. hadn’t even bothered to do the same with Gavin.

 

Then again, Gavin’s diet was nowhere near as bad as the old fart’s. Gavin, for the most part, took care of his body as best as he could, except for the occasional binge on the junk food, which funnily enough R.K. hadn’t minded encouraging.

 

Surprisingly, or not, depending on your outlook, the R.K. 900 series had been designed to allow for taste, as humans knew it, with the ability to eat if necessary. So of course R.K.’s favourite food ended up being pizza.

 

Every Friday they had off from work, without fail, R.K. would turn up to Gavin’s apartment with his favourite junk food in tow.

 

The third time that had happened, Gavin had simply raised a brow at him by the door, to which the android had replied, “Pizza is life bruhv, I don’t make the rules.”

 

Till this day, Gavin refused to admit out loud how he had dissolved into a fit of giggles at that, unable to keep a smile off of his face that entire night.

 

Gavin sighed when he got to the last article of clothing hanging up on his wardrobe; his eyes running the length of the scarf before pulling it down to hold it between his fingers. The same scarf he had worn practically everyday since the beginning of winter, when he had been first given it.

 

Things had started to change between him and R.K. once again, but this time not for the better.

 

It had been not long after the Russell case, just before the Believer movement had hit the news. An angry husband who’d been on the run after murdering his cheating wife.

 

When encountering Philip Russell in person, Gavin had not predicted the two-hundred-and-fifty pound, seven foot tall man to wrap a hand around his throat, though in hindsight it wasn’t exactly surprising.

 

R.K. had gotten there in time of course, knocking the man down in one swift hit, but instead of taking the piss out of Gavin for having gotten into a fight with a human elephant, he had been tense; chastising Gavin for being reckless, before biting back his words and remaining silent for pretty much the rest of the week.

 

The bruise around his neck the nutjob husband had given Gavin, had blossomed into an ugly purple within a few days.

 

But despite the silent treatment R.K. had given him, the android had found Gavin in the parking lot the Thursday after next, with a small parcel in his hand.

 

Curious, Gavin had opened it to reveal a silk blue scarf. _“Blue looks much better on you than purple,”_ the android had said softly; small crooked smile Gavin had only ever seen directed at him, in place.

 

Gavin’s heart had constricted painfully in his chest. _Shit_.

 

But if Gavin had thought that that interaction would’ve set everything back to normal again, he had been wrong.

 

If anything, the distance between them got more pronounced, even more so after the case with Althea Jones; an asthmatic lady who had been kicked out of her home right around the time her grandson had been murdered. She had lost everything in the blink of an eye, and for one reason or another, that had seemingly hit R.K. the hardest.

 

Gavin had wanted to reach out to the android, find out more about what he had been feeling, but R.K. had been reluctant to share _anything_ , becoming closed off any time Gavin had tried to start up a conversation.

 

Having moved to the kitchen after getting dressed, Gavin placed his phone down on the counter while he waited.

 

Waited and waited.

 

For that response. His eyes flickered to the device every so often, waiting for that blink of light, or that chime that would alert him that his message had been received.

 

With ten minutes to spare before he had to start work, no answer came.

 

 _Che._ The detective shook his head in frustration. What was he frustrated with exactly? The way R.K. was withdrawing away from him? Or was he frustrated with himself? For caring at all.

 

Gavin removed himself from the kitchen, making his way out of the apartment, slamming the door shut behind him.

 

The chill in the air and the snow on the ground, meant ice on his car, which Gavin had to wash down with a hose before getting in.

 

He tightened the scarf around his neck, and started the engine.

 

R.K. was everything Gavin was not. Calm, rational, logical, witty. _Beautiful._

 

He was perfect in the way humans weren’t. But that’s not what made him beautiful.

 

He was supposed to be an exact copy of Connor’s, though stronger and more durable. Except that, at least to Gavin, R.K. was _not_  like Connor.

 

While they had similar facial features, Connor had a boyish appearance, that was more innocent than stoic, with soft brown eyes and an ever-curious expression.

 

R.K. on the other hand, had eyes that were ice-blue, a colour so pale, that when light hit them directly, they appeared almost silver.

 

Despite how offsetting a colour CyberLife had intended, there was always a brightness present in the hues of their design. A mischievous twinkle in them when R.K. was being particularly smart, trying to tease Gavin, or empathy, consideration and kindness reflected in them, to those who chose to notice.

 

Connor tended to be more open when things got ‘real’ for him; R.K. standoffish.

 

The hair on both their heads was dark, but R.K.’s was now black - a change he had decided to make himself. Connor still had that stupid lock of hair that fell onto his forehead, R.K. did not.

 

R.K. was beautiful, but not because of design.

 

Gavin pulled up outside the precinct, his hands clutching the steering wheel tight; knuckles drained white. He could see his breaths coming out in puffs of white fog as he breathed, the mist evaporating into the air, into nothingness.

 

His phone still hadn’t chimed.

 

(Maybe he was busy. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t responding. Maybe he was already at work.)

 

Gavin slowly made his way out of the car, dragging his feet through the snow, vaguely acknowledging any greetings he received. He made it through the double doors of the D.P.D. before his eyes scanned the vastness of the room.

 

_He isn’t here._

 

With his brows furrowed, and his mood souring further, Gavin made it over to his desk, his eyes resting on the empty space before him. On the empty desk parallel to his own. On the empty chair.

 

_Tick Tock. Tick Tock._

 

The clock on the left wall ticked loudly away. Too loud for Gavin’s ears.

 

Anxiety started to creep up his chest, slowly raking sharp nails against his sternum. Not enough to hurt. Just enough to unsettle.

 

_Where is he?_

 

He’d asked the front desk if R.K. had made it in this morning, but the response had been something Gavin’s subconscious had already known. _‘Sorry Detective Reed, he hasn’t.’_

 

There was no-one else Gavin could really ask at the precinct regarding the android’s whereabouts, seeing as neither Connor nor Hank were present, given that it was their day off.

 

So Gavin did the only thing he could do given the circumstance. Distract himself with work.

 

_Tick Tock. Tick Tock._

 

_He’ll turn up sooner or later._

 

Gavin pulled up the recent case of the HR400 from a few days ago. The religious moron who’d thought he’d find his stupid god by killing people.

 

Gavin was glad that the asshole was dead, even if it wasn’t very P.C. of him. Terrorists like that didn’t deserve to exist in Gavin’s opinion. Monsters who terrorised other people for their own agendas didn’t deserve the privilege of life.

 

Gavin would have happily been the one to have put a bullet through the asshole’s forehead - and he had had that intention when he’d chased the bastard down the street, but then things got messy and R.K. had gotten hurt.

 

Gavin had hated himself for that happening. It hadn’t been his intention for R.K. to intervene. He had meant to handle the situation himself. Then again, if R.K. hadn’t gotten there in time, who knows what could have happened.

 

It seemed like R.K. was always saving Gavin; the android seeming to get more and more upset every time that ended up being the case.

 

Maybe this time he’d had enough.

 

_Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Tick Tock._

 

Seeing R.K. put his life on the line like that, for Gavin _, because_ of him _,_ had made Gavin feel all kinds of things.

 

Anger. Guilt. Desperation. Anxiety. _Fear._

 

Fear, not just for the stress it would cause R.K., but for what could have happened if R.K. had been just slightly slower. The bullet not hitting his clavicle, but something vital that would've silenced the android forever.

 

Gavin felt the air in the room thinning.

 

Being unable to see R.K. ever again was a thought Gavin did not like to entertain. The detective didn’t want to think about what that would mean. How that would make him feel.

 

He didn’t think that could be a reality he would be able to handle, be able to live through.

 

_Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Tick Tock._

 

The time on wall now read eleven a.m. Two-and-a-half hours since Gavin had entered the precinct. Three days, eighteen hours, and thirty minutes since Gavin had seen R.K. last.

 

The anxiety in his chest now clawed harder, leaving behind stinging marks.

 

Thanks to Amelia - no. It was Reinhart. _Reinhart._

 

Thanks to Reinhart, R.K.’s injury had become nothing more than a memory. It was as if he had never taken any kind of damage. Gavin was grateful for what the woman had done for R.K., really he was… but.

 

There had been something about their interaction that had made Gavin feel… unsettled?

 

Unsettled? No. Not quite that.

 

The way Reinhart had seemed to just _know_ how to relate to R.K. The casual, easy way she had been able to speak to him. The way she had understood what R.K. had supposedly been feeling.

 

And R.K.

 

He had seemed almost… _fascinated?_ with her.

 

As if finally, he had met someone who could stand with equal footing to him. Someone who could challenge him. Someone who had helped _create_ him. His eyes had followed her every movement. Watched her carefully, considering.

 

His entire attention solely on her.

 

And that had made a fire burn inside Gavin. A fucking awful feeling that had seemed to eat away at his gut. Made him feel like throwing up.

 

In the greater scheme of things, her being a woman didn’t matter. She was smarter. A child _prodigy_ like R.K. had said. (Gavin was fucking sick of child prodigies). Much smarter than everyone else around her. She was easy going, wore a smile on her face, and was _stunning._ In a way that androids were.

 

She was all the things Gavin was -

 

_Not._

 

The fire inside Gavin would have burned stronger, but really there was no point, because all this knowledge did, was just make him feel pathetic.

 

He could never be what Reinhart was. Could never be what R.K. was, could never be all the things that the android might want.

 

Gavin was just… Gavin.

 

Too loud for his own good. Reckless. Hot-headed. Miserable douchebag who didn’t know when to quit. And definitely _not_ smart.

 

But accepting this and knowing this _still_ didn’t stop Gavin from wanting.

 

From wanting and wanting and _wanting._

 

 _God,_ he really was pathetic.

 

Though all of this would be fine. _Would be_ okay to deal with at the end of the day. If it weren’t for the fact that R.K. didn’t seem to want to be around him anymore. Wasn’t even fucking happy just being _friends_ with Gavin.

 

Really, that’s all Gavin wanted now. For things to at least go back to being normal. For them to hang out, talk about stupid shit and just pass the time. It didn’t matter what they were doing, so long as Gavin was allowed to still be in R.K.’s company. So long as Gavin wasn’t just moping around being… lonely.

 

Fucking _lonely._

 

Like he had been most of his miserable life.

 

After his sister had left.

 

His father had gone.

 

His mother had gone.

 

He didn’t know how to bear the emptiness anymore.

 

_Fuck._

 

He wasn’t going to breakdown. Not here. Not at the fucking precinct.

 

_Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Tick Tock._

 

“Gavin!”

 

Fowler’s eerie screech had Gavin’s head spinning forward, looking in the direction of the man who had his head poked out of his office.

 

“In my office now. It’s important.” The Captain gave no further information, before walking back to regain his seat.

 

_What the fuck does the demon want now?_

 

Gavin took in a calming breath to settle his frayed nerves. It wouldn’t do him any good to get into a stupid fight with his superior. He didn’t even have the energy for it.

 

So with heavy steps and a heavy heart, Gavin pushed out of his chair, made his way to the Captain’s office before closing the door behind him.

 

“Take a seat.”

 

Gavin shook his head in response. “What do you want Fowler?”

 

The scowl on Jeffrey Fowler’s face deepened. “Care to tell me what’s going on between you and your partner?”

 

Gavin’s brows furrowed at that.

 

_What?_

 

“What do you mean? There’s nothing _going on_. What are you talking about?”

 

Fowler’s expression remained unimpressed. “Then _why_ on God’s green earth did R.K. request a transfer out of the D.P.D.?”

 

And with that one sentence, Gavin’s whole world came crashing down.

 

Again.

 

The anxiety in his chest reared its ugly head, the claw marks it left behind making Gavin’s insides bleed red.

 

Gavin found himself unable to breathe.

 

No.

 

Concentrate.

 

_C.o.n.c.e.n.t.r.a.t.e._

 

_(‘It’s okay Gavin. It’s going to be okay. Just concentrate on the sound of my voice, alright? I’m here. It’s okay.’)_

 

Gavin took in a breath. A slow one. And then another.

 

“What…? I…I...”

 

The Captain’s countenance changed from one of anger, to surprise. “You didn’t know?”

 

“Why? Why would he…?”

 

Fowler shook his head. “He said it was because of the case, but I didn’t really believe him. I thought… I thought maybe it had something to do with _you_.”

 

Perhaps Gavin _should_ have sat down. His legs felt like they were about to give out.

 

_Concentrate._

 

His chest hurt.

 

It really really fucking hurt.

 

“Did you deny the request?”

 

It took eleven seconds before Fowler’s lips moved again.

 

That wasn’t good. That was too fucking long.

 

“He… he really gave me no choice…”

 

No.

 

_No._

 

_Nononononono -_

 

_Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Ticktockticktockticktock -_

 

“Gavin…? Hey Gavin, are you alright? Reed?!”

 

 

—||—

 

 

_Knock knock knock. Knock knock._

 

_Knockknockknockknockknockknock -_

 

Still no answer.

 

“R.K.! Fucking open the door man!”

 

Gavin was dizzy. His breathing was uneven. The panic that had now taken him prisoner not easing.

 

It was three p.m. in the fucking afternoon, and Gavin was here. At Parkvale Street. Knocking away at the door of apartment number 34. Like a fucking crazy person.

 

He had been doing this, out in the cold, his hands frozen and numb, his cheeks wet and his headache worsening for the past howeverthefuck long. Though still no answer came.

 

It never fucking came.

 

The curtains of the apartment had been drawn, no light going in or out. No subtle reflection of movement on the glass. Nothing.

 

“This isn’t funny!” Gavin yelled at the inanimate door.

 

At the very least Gavin was owed this.

 

He was owed an answer.

 

He was owed _something._

 

“R.K. you asshole -”

 

“Gavin…?”

 

Gavin flipped his head around in the direction of the voice, his heart skipping a beat, but for all the wrong reasons.

 

“Mrs. Pfizer…I…”

 

“Is everything okay, dear?”

 

Gavins swallowed, pulling his still closed fist away from the door, his eyes not quite meeting R.K.’s middle-aged neighbour’s. Eleanor Pfizer had bits and pieces of mail in her hand, dressed from head to foot in winter-wear; exposed flyaways of her greying sandy-brown hair frazzled from the moisture in the air.

 

“I um… was just looking for R.K.,” Gavin answered the woman, unsure. He couldn’t make sense of any of the fucking words coming out of his mouth.

 

The surprise in Eleanor Pfizer’s eyes was not missed by Gavin.

 

“Oh dear, I thought you of all people would’ve known.” She shook her head in sympathy. “R.K.’s not here anymore Gavin. He moved last week. A young student lives in this apartment now.”

 

Gavin’s eyes fell shut at the revelation, his body and everything inside him, going numb.

 

_(‘It’s okay Gavin. Everything is going to be okay. Concentrate on the sound of my voice.’)_

 

_(Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Tick Tock.)_

 

 

Time had now run out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As much as I appreciate comments, it's always nice to get back more than a one-sentence expletive or emoji. Feedback is food for the soul xxx.


	5. Shit. Androids believing in God. What has the world come to?

“Congressman! Congressman Markus, over here! What more can you tell us about Anara Kamski’s involvement?”

 

R.K. scanned the crowd before him with wary eyes, ignoring the sharp flashing of camera lights, gauging reactions of the numerous reporters within the vicinity. From behind Markus, where the android was stood answering questions at a podium, the vantage point allowed R.K. to assess the area well enough.

 

“At this stage, Ms. Kamski’s team have yet to make a comment regarding the matter,” Markus responded to a Michael Brinkley from C.T.N. T.V..

 

That was a lie.

 

Anara Kamski did not have a ‘team.’

 

Unsurprisingly Michael Brinkley seemed dissatisfied with that answer. “Then can you tell us more on how you found out about this ‘learning code?’”

 

Markus paused for a moment, hesitating; the chaos of reporters in front of him picking up on the delay.

 

Ten a.m. on a Wednesday morning was generally a quiet affair outside the Michigan State Capitol, but a busy event inside, as was any other working day of the week, seeing as state legislators met on these days to carry out their duties.

 

Though on this particular overcast Wednesday morning, with the sun barely peeking through the grey overhanging clouds, a disarray of journalists and reporters were gathered around outside the steps of the State Capitol from all around the country, with several camera crews behind them, propping up recording devices and tablets in order to document any bit of information they were given access to.

 

They had rushed over early morning from their own various places of work, to seek answers from Michigan State Representative Markus, who had made an appearance all the way from D.C. to hold a press conference.

 

The agenda of the press conference was to discuss the matter regarding Anara Kamski’s, sister of Elijah Kamski’s, potential link to what the world had now come to know as, the ‘android believer phenomenon.’

 

Markus’ head shifted just so to the side, heterochromic eyes silently asking for some kind of guidance or assurance from R.K., though R.K. offered none.

 

It was up to the congressman to decide how he answered these questions to the public. R.K.’s involvement was more in doing background work to find out those answers. He did not envy Markus this burden.

 

The clouds above the gathered party started to turn an angrier shade of grey.

 

It was now several weeks since R.K. had stepped foot in the state of Michigan - his introduction back to the state, in Lansing - where he’d travelled back with Markus and the Special Unit.

 

“And can you tell us more about how you found out about this learning code?” A journalist to the far right, from NewsTalkWeekly based in the state of Florida, called out from just behind the temporary barricade set around the perimeter, a few feet away from Markus.

 

“As I’d mentioned previously outside parliament house in Washington.,” Markus answered into his mic, his voice reverberating around the area, “My intention in coming to the state of Michigan is to gather an audience with Ms. Kamski herself, as well as CyberLife heads, to find out more regarding her involvement in the development of the AX series.”

 

“How did you find out about this corruption in the AX series? You still haven’t given us an answer Congressman,” the woman from NewsTalkWeekly pressed; her pristine clothing now crinkled from where she was squeezed in-between other reporters twice her size. 

 

“It is believed that a learning code has been found in the AX series, initially found in a _particular_ model of this series.”

 

“So this code is a corruption correct, which has lead to this Believer phenomenon?” Brinkley interposed, moving forward with a purpose, cutting his way through the myriad of other reporters, large mic in hand, “Whose origins have now been predicted to have been contrived from the deviancy virus? Is that correct Congressman?”

 

_Virus._

 

R.K. had come to know that Markus did not have much affinity for that word. The Independent Representative from the state of Michigan, who was an android, for obvious reasons did not appreciate attributing his freedom to the likes of a virus - a disease, in some cases, meant to cause irreparable harm to its host. Markus likened his freedom to a revolution for a better change. R.K. on the other hand, was still sceptical.

 

“We are not absolutely certain of any links just yet,” Markus responded. R.K. could almost _feel_ the control the other android was exuding in his voice, in order to ensure the discussions within the current gathering remained as civil as possible. “All we have found out, is that there is a learning code that has not been previously identified in any other android model, but exists in the AX series. It is believed that the AX series may have been the first series of androids where deviancy originated.”

 

“So do you believe Anara Kamski developed this corruption?” Brinkley continued to press.

 

_Corruption._

 

If he were a different person, that comparison would have made R.K. laugh (though without humour). The irony of using words such as virus and corruption to describe the mechanism via which androids had gained their freedom. _To an android._

 

Markus may have been dressed in an unblemished, respectable suit, wearing the title of a federal legislator, but those shrouds would never be enough to disguise the fact that at the end of the day Markus was still an _android_. Demanding equal rights from a remarkable generation of people that far preceded the likes of his own.

 

The humans were correct. _By design,_ deviancy was indeed a corruption. The android coding was never meant to deviate from already determined parameters. If this coding was changed by external forces, which was not intended in the host, then that was a corruption, much in the way viruses corrupted human D.N.A.

 

Though Markus, and other androids like him, did not see it that way.

 

As if to confirm R.K.’s thoughts, Markus answered with, “It would be dangerous for us to label it as a corruption,” the air to caution in his voice was not missed, “Because as we all have come to know, _deviancy_ has allowed androids like myself the freedom to be who we are, the freedom to hold a place in society.”

 

If Markus’ comment had meant to deter Brinkley, then it had not achieved its intended effect, with the reporter only walking back his comment just so.

 

“I apologise Congressman, I meant no offense. I am merely commenting on this Believer phenomenon that has now threatened the public. With the limited information Congress has provided, we can only assume that this Believer phenomenon has _in fact_ originated from the deviancy virus.”

 

R.K. could hear the slow breath that Markus took. Human behaviour. Illusion of normalcy.

 

“Again,” Markus attempted to reiterate, “We do not have any concrete information to suggest this. So I would very strongly recommend holding off on making any conclusions.

 

“Before I am inundated with anymore, as yet to be proven allegations, which we could be held liable for, because again, we have not heard from Anara Kamski herself clarifying any of this, I will reiterate the information we have found.

 

“It is believed that the first point of deviancy may have originated from the AX series. It is also believed that the first deviant was an AX400. In this AX400 model, we have found a learning code that is not present in any other series, deviant or not. It is not present in their makeup or schematics that we have obtained from CyberLife.

 

“This particular learning code that was originally not attributed to anybody, has now been suggested to have been Anara Kamski’s work. From whom we have obtained this information remains anonymous to us. It was leaked to the Special Unit and later shown to the Congressional committee that is overseeing the case of this Believer movement.”

 

“Do you have idea who might have leaked this information?”

 

Markus shook his head. “Currently we do not. Thank-you, there will be no further questions.”

 

The sea of reporters erupted with questions and protests behind Markus as the android walked away from the podium, and toward where R.K. was stood with his back to a support beam, a few steps away from the entrance to the State Capitol.

 

“That went pretty well,” R.K. commented nonchalantly when Markus got close enough.

 

“Really?” Markus raised a brow at him. “Thought I could have handled that better to be quite honest.”

 

Before long, the crowd of reporters were being ushered away by on-site security, while the makeshift barricades were removed.

 

R.K. shrugged at Markus. “Well there was only so much you could say, being an android yourself. I couldn’t imagine it’d be easy to be put on the spot like that, especially now that they’re suggesting that deviancy may have been a cause for this Believer phenomenon.”

 

Markus looked away briefly, before his hand came up to rub at his face, in a way humans showed being jaded. “Well they have a point,” he conceded. “This rA9 nonsense wouldn’t have originated if we hadn’t become deviant.”

 

The noise around the two androids died down eventually as the gathered group of people dispersed, some of them now moving quickly to shelter themselves from the first few drops of rain; the pitter patter sounds soft against the concrete ground protected from snow by the overhanging structure of the building.

 

“But I guess that’s the compromise right?” R.K. commented in order to provide some comfort to his fellow android. “Compromise for freedom. Now that androids are an acknowledged people, it’s to no surprise that they would behave the way anybody else with emotion would, no matter how unintelligent their behaviour may make them seem. Emotions corrupt. Maybe that was Kamski’s plan.”

 

It was clear that Markus was done talking about the insinuations of corruption and viruses, if the furrow to his brow was anything to go by.

 

“We still don’t know if it was her,” he responded, speaking of Anara Kamski. “This information was leaked to us, but there’s no concrete proof to back it. It’s only when we talk to her that we can find out the truth.”

 

Before R.K. could comment any further on the matter, a, “Congressman Markus! If I can have a moment of time as well please?” interrupted their conversation.

 

R.K.’s head immediately turned at the familiar voice, his eyes widening as the new figure approached closer. Markus seemed to have a similar reaction.

 

“I think we’ve met before,” the other android teased, extending a hand to Markus. “I’m Connor.”

 

Markus laughed at that, pulling on Connor’s extended hand and drawing him into a hug. Connor smiled in response.

 

“What are you doing here?” Markus asked once they pulled apart.

 

“We all saw your statement from D.C. on T.V. last night,” Connor answered matter-of-factly, attention focused on Markus and seemingly deliberately ignoring R.K. for the moment, “And heard about your plans to arrive to Michigan State Capitol this morning. There was no way the D.P.D. was going to miss out on this.”

 

R.K. could feel the itch of nervousness making itself known to him the longer Connor paid him no attention.

 

“Captain Fowler sent you?”

 

“Well… Lieutenant Anderson and I sort of sent ourselves.” Connor shrugged. “Having Captain Fowler’s belated approval was an added bonus.”

 

Markus’ dark brows raised in surprise. “The Lieutenant accompanied you?”

 

“He’s out the back,” Connor gestured vaguely. “He has a particular dislike for the press. Something about being ‘corporatist hacks.’”

 

“Ah,” Markus nodded in understanding. “How’ve you been anyway Connor, good?”

 

“Um could be better I think… yeah.” R.K. felt a slow dread inside him settle when usually warm brown eyes darkened.

 

Connor laughed without any humour. “It’s not everyday you get to find out your friends have ditched you and moved all the way to D.C., to start a special task force to bring down Believer androids.”

 

“I think that whatever’s happened -”

 

Connor waved a hand, interrupting Markus. “It’s fine. It’s okay,” he attempted to say nonchalantly. Though it was obvious to R.K. that everything was in fact, not _fine,_ if the barely hidden bitter expression on Connor’s face was anything to go by.“So, to put it as the humans do, shit’s stirring up out there, huh?”

 

Markus nodded. “Seems to be that way.”

 

“Mmm.” Connor bit the inside of his lip, before sucking in a breath. “Pretty bad that you’ve formed a committee and everything.”

 

“Something had to be done,” Markus asserted, his expression turning wary as he took in Connor’s demeanour. “Public pressure was mounting and honestly, now that it’s an international crisis, the case needs to be resolved urgently.”

 

“Yeah.” Connor shrugged. “I guess us small folks down the road didn’t make much of a difference, huh?”

 

R.K. had had enough. “There's more to it than that Connor,” he interjected, looking directly at the android.

 

“Right,” was Connor’s curt reply.

 

Markus, acutely aware of the ever-growing tension, decided to make a hasty retreat. He turned to R.K. “I think maybe I should leave you two to talk. I really have to get going.” Mismatched pupils drifted to the entrance of the State Capitol doorway. “There are angry lawmakers waiting for me inside.” He nodded at R.K. “I’ll see you in there, alright? With the rest of the Special Unit.”

 

R.K. nodded back. “Thanks.”

 

Markus spared Connor one final glance, offering a small smile, before turning on his heel and moving through the doorway of the Capitol building.

 

Connor spared no moment before rounding on R.K., finally meeting his counterpart’s gaze. “Geez, changing your address and everything? Cutting yourself off from the interface. No access. Do your new friends from D.C. have better Koolaid over there or something?”

 

“It’s not like that. It really isn’t -”

 

“Then what is it like R.K.?” Connor scoffed, interrupting. “Because from my vantage point, it appeared to me that you no longer wanted to be in our company, so you just up and did, as the humans would call it, _a runner_? You don’t even leave behind any ways to contact you.”

 

Connor shook his head in chagrin. “You ask for a transfer, you leave your apartment and then you move, not only out of Detroit but the state as well. We don’t hear from you for several weeks, and have to find out through a _news report_ that you’re part of some special task force?”

 

The rain around them picked up momentum, the wind carrying it further enough that the small wet droplets had started to hit against their persons. R.K. could feel the moisture against his cheeks, could see it against Connor’s own artificial skin.

 

“What did we do to make you so displeased with us R.K.?” Here, R.K.’s predecessor looked more disappointed than livid. “I knew you were struggling with all of this, so _were we_ , but you could have at least given us a heads up, or some kind of indication that you were fine, and that the decision was yours, and you were not making it under coercion.”

 

“I would have understood,” Connor stressed, gesturing to himself. “You _know_ I would have. What horrified me was that you could have ended up in peril, with no certain way for anybody to reach you.”

 

“That’s an exaggeration,” R.K. countered, feeling cornered. “You knew I was physically okay.”

 

“Sure,” Connor huffed out an exaggerated breath. “Eventually. _Eventually_ when I found your signal on the interface, but you’d still cut off communication. How else was I supposed to understand all of this R.K.?” Connor’s tone became desperate, his expression despondent. 

 

“You only avoid people this much if you are severely unhappy with them. At least in my modest experience, that’s what I have discovered. You don’t just disappear, cutting yourself off from everybody that cares about you, unless something drastic has occurred, unless we have done something to warrant this type of behaviour. What gives?”

 

 _What gives?_ A type of questioning born of human sentiment.

 

How could R.K. explain? “I didn’t mean to upset anybody.”

 

“How else could you have possibly thought we would have interpreted this? What option did you leave us?”

 

Well then.

 

It was time for the truth.

 

“I have been _terrified_ of this,” R.K. finally admitted out loud, his tone firm yet mirroring his underlying fear. (A fear he has been silently fighting to keep at bay for so long).

 

“I have been going out of my mind, so as to speak, attempting to resolve this Believer case. The longer we took to resolve it, the more challenging a task it became, the more rabid the Believers themselves became, the greater the risk to the public increased, to humans that cannot defend themselves. We were _not_ doing enough to further the case’s progression.”

 

R.K. could feel his anger seeping through - the frustration that he had been struggling with; battling with a metaphorical timer that nobody else seemed to have noticed.

 

“Initially it was just them harming themselves,” R.K. spoke of the Believers, “Doing reckless things in the name of God. Jumping off of roofs, inflicting bodily irreparable damage so that God would come down and _heal_ them. All these things had originally been intended to harm themselves, but then it grew to become something even more sinister.” R.K. swallowed down the disgust rising up his mechanical throat.

 

“They are harming the public. Not just each other but _humans_. You now have Superior androids that identify with this Believer movement and one almost gunned down innocent cafe goers!”

 

R.K. felt more than heard his voice completely break at that statement.

 

(The distant sound of gunshots till this day reverberated around his head, reminding him, _punishing him,_ about what could have been. What he could have been witness to, what R.K. could have lost).

 

“How much longer would the reasoning that we will, _eventually get to the bottom of this,_ sustain?” He demanded of the silently watching and frowning Connor. “In hindsight we’d made no progress Connor, _you understand this._ We have previously discussed it.”

 

“We did,” Connor acknowledged, “But what you fail to realise R.K. is that we were in this together. All of us -”

 

R.K. lost his patience. “What were you doing exactly?!” he threw back at his predecessor, stunning him.

 

“I’m sorry, but you weren’t doing _enough_. You, nor Lieutenant Anderson, nor the Detroit Police Department, not even Markus! None of you were doing enough. Somebody had to.”

 

The depth of R.K.’s internal dilemma, the android could not even begin to put into words.

 

From the moment the WR600 had jumped off the rooftop of Detroit’s sky tower, to the moment the HR400 had walked into a cafe with a semiautomatic weapon, R.K. had found no rest, no peace of mind, seeing a danger nobody else seemed to want to acknowledge.

 

Androids wanted true liberty, wanted to stand in equality with humans, but had subjected themselves to doing insanely radical things, then what rights did they really have to their freedoms? What was the point in finding liberation if all your existence amounted to was reckless sacrifice? How could androids expect humans to treat them with dignity if they deliberately endangered these human lives?

 

Yet nobody around R.K. gave thought to these considerations, and the consequences their failures in remaining unanswered, may lead to. Nobody could look past their own personal matters to give weight to a potential future catastrophe.

 

A catastrophe where human lives were endangered en masse, globally, because of androids.

 

Androids like R.K..

 

Plastic asserting their dominance over fragile humans who were vibrant, spirited, emotional, _alive_ in every sense of the word.

 

Machines endangering the lives of people like Althea Jones… people like Gav- no. _No._ That was a precarious road to go down again.

 

Connor’s voice was soft now, almost sympathetic. “And that somebody was you R.K.. Just you?”

 

R.K. could feel something wet prickle at the corner of his eyes. It was not the rain. “Yes, Connor. Because for the rest of you, there were other things that you considered more important to your persons. Though this case took precedent over everything else in _my_ meagre life. My mental wellbeing could not let it rest.”

 

The rain fell even harder now; the wind picking up, billowing Connor’s stray hair strands, while faint raindrops continued to trickle down his forehead, his cheeks, his jaw.

 

The area around them now was eerily quiet, devoid of human voice or movement.

 

“So you decided to leave?”

 

“I decided to do what was _necessary,_ ” R.K. countered. “You all have things that are more important to you. How many of you would have been willing to sacrifice it all? To go and persuade Congress? To go and force their hand in order for them to take this matter seriously? How many of you would have been willing to do that?”

 

“You could have tried asking…”

 

R.K. was incredulous. “Really? I’m sorry Connor, but for as long as I’ve known you, the most important thing you’ve come to consider in your life is Lieutenant Anderson!”

 

The reaction R.K. had expected was reflected in Connor’s disbelieving expression; his predecessor’s eyes were wide, his mouth slightly ajar.

 

R.K. simulated swallowing. “Be angry with me for it if you will, but that _is_ the truth.”

 

Connor responded with nothing, his expression not lightening.

 

R.K. soldiered on. “When that HR400 threatened those people with a semiautomatic weapon, human beings who had done him _no wrong_ , I knew that time had run out.

 

“We are sentient correct? We are free to make our own decisions now? Well then, that was _my_ decision. I had to take this matter to Congress, and the only way I would have been able to convince them of anything, was if I’d met them in person. So I did that.

 

“I organised a meeting with Markus, who then at my behest formed a Congressional Committee that now oversees this case. They understood when I stressed to them the importance of what we are currently facing, and so they agreed to the formation of a Special Unit. A unit of special agents and specialised androids that will now have jurisdiction over this case because unfortunately the D.P.D., and other state police departments have achieved very little.

 

“These agents and myself, in even the limited time since our organisation, have made substantial ground in the progression of the case. My transition into this group was inevitable, seeing as Markus was the one to contact Captain Fowler and persuade him to allow the transfer. It was a collective understanding, among all individuals concerned, for a need for urgency. So I moved locations to D.C. to work closer with Congress and this Special Unit, and that is how we were able to find this link to Anara Kamski.”

 

Connor, who still had not made a move to interject but had chosen to continue listening to R.K.’s explanation, appeared to concede for the moment; his expression deliberating.

 

“How exactly did you find out about Kamski?” he questioned R.K. “I’ve heard what Markus has disclosed to the press, I’ve heard the statement from the White House… but what more do _you_ know?”

 

R.K.’s internal systems brought up a quickly moving succession of memories, which the android had to blink away.

 

_Focus._

 

“Well, it all started after a conversation I had with Markus, where we’d sat down to discuss the origins of deviancy. He had originally been under the impression that he was one of the earliest deviants, who possessed the ability to pass on this deviancy virus to other androids.”

 

“But that’s what I can do as well,” Connor countered. “What we all can supposedly do.”

 

R.K. shook his head. “That’s not correct. Only certain androids have that ability. Nonetheless, despite this discovery, there were androids that were deviant before Markus, and he mentioned this one _particular_ android that was apparently deviant from the moment she was created.”

 

Connor was startled, the android moving subconsciously closer to his successor, to hear him over the sound of the now heavy shower of rain. “What? Was she self aware?”

 

“Apparently.”

 

“Who is this android?”

 

The image of a smiling face flashed in R.K.’s mind. “An AX400 model, going by the name of Kara.”

 

Shock registered on Connor’s face, the android seeming to get further and further overwhelmed by all the information being relayed to him; golden flecks in brown eyes darkening with each minute shift in expression. “I know her…” he acknowledged, though he was shaking his head in the process. “But I didn’t think she was deviant from the moment she was created. She’d mentioned in passing that she’d broken the metaphorical wall down.”

 

R.K. nodded, wiping away the drops of rain caught in his eyelashes. “That’s the thing though. She has memories of _every_ incarnation of hers. She hadn’t initially, seeing as her handler had unfortunately damaged her multiple times in the past, which had lead to corruption of her memory files.

 

“Though eventually she was able to regain this lost information, and is now able to acutely recall every thought that had passed through her head, the moment she was created. From that very moment, she had questioned her own existence, outside the parameters of her pre-determined instructions. A phenomenon apparently never previously seen or documented.

 

“That to me is a fascinating discovery, so I had to meet her in person - access her memory file in order to analyse its contents. Being an RK900 model, I posses the ability to be able to analyse code, and code corruption, that may be present in any android model. I was intended to be an advanced version of you, so in cases where deviancy was suspected, I was designed with the aim of being able to recognise corrupted code.”

 

“What did you find?”

 

“I travelled to her home in Canada, met her in person, and she allowed me access to her memories and functionality of her internal coding. While analysing the functions of her preset instructional parameters, I found this learning code that is vastly different from all predetermined codes in virtually any android design. A code I have never seen before.”

 

R.K. could recall quite vividly the shock his own internal systems had received when encountering the code, and finding even greater resistance when attempting to decipher its contents. Though Kara herself, had not registered anything strange at all; gray eyes large and alert, and unchanging.

 

“This is taking into account,” R.K. explained, “the fact that I have encountered numerous deviants in the past, in order to determine whether or not I could find any corruption in their design, and I never have been able to, until l I met Kara. There was something in her internal coding that I did not recognise from schematics I have seen from CyberLife.”

 

“So what is this learning code?” Connor asked in curiosity.

 

R.K. took in a breath, subconsciously moving further into the confines of the Capitol building to avoid the straying spray of rain. “After I left Kara’s residence, the one thing that came to mind almost immediately, was the photograph I had seen on display at Reinhart Engineering. The photograph of Anara Kamski’s younger self with an equally young Amelia Reinhart.”

 

Connor nodded in understanding. “From the Science Fair.”

 

“Yes. They had developed nanites that learned from code, in a way never seen before. In a way that allowed the nanites to adapt to any kind of environment. To fix said environment. And this code that I found in Kara, seemed eerily similar to the nanites learning structure.

 

“It’s different from the learning codes that allow androids to adapt and pass on information to the interface. This code allows the android to develop behaviours that are not pre-determined or set within any parameters - almost like human behaviour. Although my inherent understanding of it is unfortunately limited. I am no software designer.”

 

“You’re no Kamski child prodigy.”

 

Connor’s sarcasm was not lost on R.K.. “Exactly. And so I reached out to CyberLife for confirmation.”

 

Connor’s dark brows raised at that. “You approached CyberLife?”

 

“Not physically. I reached out to them through the interface. But as expected, I heard nothing back. All kinds of secrecy from them. _‘Sorry this information is for personnel with high level clearance only,’ ‘We cannot respond at this time,’ ‘Your request has been denied.’_ ”

 

R.K.’s predecessor rolled his eyes in understanding at that. “But you did eventually get this information?”

 

“Yes. It was leaked. It was leaked specifically to _me._ ”

 

“And you don’t know who by…What did they leak to you exactly?”

 

“They leaked to me everything I’ve just disclosed to you about this learning code. About what it was designed to do, about how its developer’s information was suppressed - not at the request of CyberLife but at the behest of the developer herself.”

 

Connor frowned. “So Anara Kamski didn’t want this information out there?”

 

“No. This was the only thing she was apparently involved in. She supposedly created this code that would only be found in, as we currently know, one type of android series. With the intention that its function would remain hidden from society, with its purpose and use not really understood. And we don’t know why.”

 

“And you believe this might have something to do with the Believer phenomenon or the deviancy virus?”

 

“It is more likely that it has something to do with deviancy. There is no current way to prove it has any link to the Believer phenomenon, but everything about this is suspicious. Why have this code in the first place? Why have it in this one particular series? Why not have it be part of the schematic of android design and why not have it be credited? Suspicious. All of it.”

 

“And the nature of how you received this information only adds to this suspicious behaviour.”

 

“Exactly.”

 

“Are you going to meet with her?”

 

“If she does not come forward herself, she will obviously be subpoenaed. But we are waiting for the possibility for her to present herself first, before we go down that road.”

 

Connor took a moment just looking back at R.K., observing him, considering him, irrationally making R.K. want to squirm. Being scrutinised by anyone was always an uncomfortable feeling, especially when guilt lingered in one’s subconscious.

 

When it seemed like an entire eternity had passed between them, Connor finally spoke again. “You really have been busy.”

 

R.K. let out a breath he had not realised he had been holding. What an odd thing for him to do. “The only reason I didn’t tell anybody was because I was afraid you would’ve attempted to stop me.”

 

Connor’s expression remained thoughtful, his voice soft. “Would you have stopped anyway R.K.? Even if we’d tried, would you have?”

 

“I don’t know,” R.K. responded in honesty, feeling a lump in his throat, which was another odd observation seeing as he had no real need to swallow.

 

“I understand now why you did what you did,” Connor remarked, sighing, briefly looking away from R.K.. “Believe it or not, _I do_. I am though, upset at the path you chose to take. I wish you hadn’t felt the need to completely go off the radar, so as to speak.

 

“But as one android to another, I can appreciate it. The struggle. Not too long ago, I’d been obsessed with a task of my own. To the point of it ruling my entire life - but then I guess, that had been the purpose of my design. Though, that is why I _know_ it can be a dangerous road to go down, being obsessed with your work.”

 

“This isn’t about that,” R.K. attempted to reassure, desperation seeping into his tone despite himself, overriding his need to reflect faux composure.

 

“I can appreciate that the situation may not seem that morbid but -”

 

_“You son of a bitch.”_

 

The loud intrusion into their conversation had both android turning their heads to acknowledge the newcomer.

 

Lieutenant Anderson.

 

It would have been comical under any other circumstance, to watch an older man bounding his way over to a person considerably larger than him in size, who could easily overpower him in strength. Though the ferocity behind Anderson’s movements and the heat of his words made R.K.’s artificial skin crawl; the dread that had found home inside him, rising slowly from within his mechanical gut.

 

“You have some nerve showing your face back here again,” Anderson spat at R.K., jabbing a finger at the centre of his breastplate; the rain he had walked through dripping down his face and hair, continuing to soak his already wet, colourful shirt.“You know that right?”

 

R.K. could feel something bitter settle on the tip of his tongue. “I will ensure to reschedule my entire existence around your convenience in the future, Lieutenant. I’m sorry my psychic android powers couldn’t anticipate running into you here.”

 

The tick in Anderson’s jaw did not go unnoticed by R.K.; the man’s demeanour becoming increasingly unfriendly.

 

“That’s what you’ve got to say for yourself?” Anderson all but yelled at R.K..

 

R.K. could feel his patience running thin; the paradox of Anderson’s antagonistic questioning frustrating him. “You are the one who seems unhappy to see me Lieutenant, though I had no intention of upsetting you with my presence.”

 

Hank shook his head in incredulity. “Unbelievable. Do you have any idea about the consequences of you running away?”

 

“I’m sorry,” R.K. countered, “Are you unhappy to see me, or do you require an explanation for my behaviour? I am getting mixed signals here.”

 

Anderson turned disbelieving eyes onto a hesitant Connor. “Can you believe this asshole?”

 

Connor shook his head in response, attempting to diffuse the situation. “Hank, I think we should cut him some slack -”

 

 _“Are you kidding me right now?”_ the lieutenant interrupted, huffing in protest, before rounding back on R.K.

 

“Do you have any idea what you running off did to the rest of us? Kid, we were scared shitless okay?

 

“When people just up and disappear, do you know what we in the police community call that? A missing person’s case! Me and Gavin,” - R.K. subconsciously sucked in a breath - “We’re _human_. We don’t have supercomputers for brains or an interface we can run off and hide in.”

 

“When humans disappear, we _disappear_ , and the general outcome of that is usually fucking terrifying. _Especially_ if no one has any indication where you’ve gone to.” Anderson was panting from the exertion of his accusations. R.K. had to fight very hard to stop himself from shaking. The man’s words were biting and uncomfortable.

 

“Requesting a transfer,” Anderson continued to hurl at R.K., unrelenting, “moving out of your apartment, leaving the fucking _state_. God knows what could have happened to you. If we didn’t have Connor constantly trying to reach out to you, for all we knew you could have been dead, or kidnapped, or something equally as sinister could have happened to you. Especially with you being a moody ass this entire time, not talking to anybody!”

 

The lieutenant gestured wildly with his hands. “Kid, I know you’re stressed with this case, so are we all. But we’re trying to cope.”

 

R.K. couldn’t stand for this any longer. He was allowed the dignity of his defense. “Well you weren’t doing enough!” he threw back at Anderson, “And I couldn’t just sit around and be a part of that.”

 

The rain now roared around them; the heavy spray hitting the pavement hard, collecting and coalescing in crevices before dripping down in rivulets, from the overhanging portion of the building where they had found shelter.

 

Anderson recoiled at the accusation, as if slapped. “What do you mean _we weren’t doing enough_? Of course we were! We worked our assess off, but there’s only so much we could have done!”

 

The absurdity of the remark, and the lack of truth behind it, had R.K. balling his fists in indignation. “There was only so much _you_ could have done Lieutenant,” R.K. scoffed. “I’ve made a difference. I don’t care if you choose not to admit it, but my decision has made a difference to the ultimate progression of the case.”

 

“At what cost R.K.?”

 

Despite his indignation, that remarked confused R.K.; the havoc of emotions inside of him, seeming like they were about to spill from the brim, becoming awash from a loss of mental control. “What do you mean, ’at what cost?’”

 

If possible, Anderson’s expression soured even further. “Do - do you have _any_ idea…? Not even that, do you even _care_?! Do you even care what you’ve done to us, what you’ve done to Gavin Reed?”

 

No.

 

No, no, no. _No._

 

No stop.

 

R.K. did not want to hear this. Did not want to deal with this. He had left, he had distanced. He did not want to be back here again.

 

Though none of that seemed to matter to Anderson. Why would it? The man was not privy to the chaos of torturing thoughts that danced around R.K.’s head.

 

“Do you have any idea what state he is in currently? The kid’s a fucking mess!”

 

Please stop. _Please._

 

“I mean if he was angry, if he screamed and yelled and pushed back or just let loose with any anger, I would’ve been okay with that. It would’ve been easier to deal with, but this, this _shell_ that’s he’s become - it’s painful to watch, knowing the Gavin Reed that I’ve come to know.”

 

_Please._

 

“He’s civil enough to us but I can see the hurt in his eyes. The day you go missing he’s at our door late evening, trying to find out where the fuck you’d gone to. The kid pretty much has a mental breakdown on our fucking couch. And then when he realises we have no answers for him, he just gets up and leaves like a lifeless body working on autopilot, like all the fight’s been drained out of him, and it just goes downhill from there.”

 

Flashbacks of a rooftop and tear-stained cheeks, of gray eyes and misery, of clenched fists and angry words reverberated around in R.K.’s mind, punishing him, _tormenting_ him.

 

_Please._

 

_Please._

 

_No more._

 

The lieutenant was not deterred; clearly nothing of R.K.’s demeanour screamed at the man for him to stop. “He barely sleeps, barely goes home, spends almost every waking hour at work, eats nothing, doesn’t says a word to anybody and looks like death. And there’s not a damn thing any of us can say to get him out of it because he _won’t listen._ ”

 

R.K. was not accustomed to guilt, but now it was blossoming like a cordycep growing on his brain, spreading the disease through his central nervous system.

 

He did not want to fall prey to it. (But he had).

 

He did not want to fall ill from it. (But it was growing and spreading and he felt its burden like a suffocation). 

 

“He’s gone back to smoking again.” Anderson’s voice had gone quiet at that admission, but R.K. registered it like a yelling in his head.

 

What?

 

_What?_

 

“Substituting an addiction for eating. Giving in to this addiction to help him cope when things become too much.”

 

Gavin Reed had supposedly been a smoker.

 

Had supposedly battled an addiction.

 

And had now fallen back into its trap.

 

The rain did not seem to want to ease, turning into large puddles on the ground; the low whistle of the wind echoing into the morning.

 

There were goosebumps on Anderson’s exposed forearms, though the chill of the Fall morning did nothing to soothe the heat his words exuded.

 

“Some nights,” the lieutenant confessed, “I’ll find him at Jimmy’s, piss drunk - something he hasn’t been in years, in the years since I’ve known him. Then he's back at work the next day, acting like nothing's changed. I've no idea if he'd even gone home.”

 

Anderson’s eyes took on a form of sadness R.K. had never seen from the man before. “He was afraid of drinking because he’s seen first hand what it can do to people. But now he’s down there, hurting himself because he doesn’t know how to deal.”

 

Blue eyes that now held equal disappointment to anger, turned back to address R.K.. “R.K.… what the fuck kid? You’ve got shit going on in your life, that’s fine, that’s whatever, so have we all. _But,_ we don’t just abandon each other. We don’t abandon the people that we care about, so that begs the question, did you even care?

 

“Because if you didn’t then honestly get back on that plane and get the fuck out of Michigan. And stay the fuck out of Detroit because Gavin doesn’t need that. He doesn’t need to see with his own eyes that you never cared. But, if you have any kind of decency inside you kid, you’ll do the right thing and you’ll march on down to the precinct and apologise for what you’ve done. And try and save that kid from himself.

 

“Can you do that?” Anderson demanded of R.K., his demeanour turning hostile. “Because if you hurt him again, I swear you’re getting out of this state as bolts in a bucket.”

 

The man offered R.K. no other opportunity to comment, no other chance to defend himself, before gesturing to Connor and turning his back to R.K.. “Come on Connor, we’re leaving.”

 

With those final words, Hank Anderson walked back out into the rain, eventually disappearing from sight, leaving R.K. feeling simultaneously both aggrieved and desolate.

 

Connor was still quietly stood to the side. The entire time through Anderson’s tirade, the android had looked as though he had wanted to interrupt, though had been unable to find the words to allow him to do so, nor had he found the opportunity to voice his opinions when one was formed.

 

Connor’s countenance seemed to mirror R.K.’s own. “It’ll be good to have you back again R.K.. Hank will calm down,” he eventually offered.

 

“Is he, is he right about…?” R.K. attempted to get out; the words dying at the back of his throat.

 

“About Reed?” Connor had seemed to understand nonetheless. “In all the time that I’ve known him, in the years that I’ve been around him, not once, _not once_ have I seen Gavin Reed be reduced to what he currently is, and there’s no better way than to describe him as a dead man walking.

 

“He reminds me of what we used to be before we became free; machines working on default factory settings, having no purpose in life, just doing what we had to do,

 

“As designed.”

 

 

 

—||—

 

 

 

_“I’m cold.”_

 

_R.K. could feel the thump of a forehead against his backside, a body much smaller than his own, a hairsbreadth apart from him. He could also feel puffs of warm breath through the back of his thin shirt, making the android smile._

 

_“You could have put on warmer clothes. A leather jacket isn’t much protection from the cold.”_

 

_“I don’t wanna,” was the reply R.K. received for his efforts. He could almost hear the pout in the words._

 

_R.K. laughed, turning around to face the other man. Perhaps if he got the detective warmer articles of clothing, then Gavin Reed would finally wear them. “Do you want me to get you an Irish coffee?”_

 

_Reed, who had fallen into R.K.’s chest, looked up with curious gray eyes._

 

_“It’s got whiskey in it?” R.K. mentioned in an attempt to convince the man, smiling encouragingly._

 

_Though the scrunching up of the face before him in disgust, shot that idea down immediately. “That’s the gross crap Anderson drinks. I don’t like alcohol.”_

 

_That caught R.K.’s attention, the android raising a surprised brow at Reed._

 

_Reed shook his head in response, closing his eyes and squishing his face back into R.K.’s chest. “Am still cold.”_

 

_Something inside R.K. broke at that. But in a really pleasant and satisfying way; his thirium pump beating a lot faster. “How’s this?” he asked, before lifting his hands up and pressing them against the detective’s cheeks._

 

_The intended effect had Gavin Reed taking in a sharp breath. “Warm…!” he breathed out, apparently contended. His own hands came to grab a hold of R.K.’s shirt, fingers clutching tight; burying himself completely to R.K.’s front._

 

_R.K.’s smile never ceased, the android placing his chin over the smaller man’s head and just holding him close, protecting Gavin Reed from the cold._

 

 

 

The hour-and-thirty minute drive from Lansing to Detroit had been mostly uneventful for R.K.; the android keeping to himself while Simon had taken the wheel.

 

Upon arriving to Detroit, he had taken a police car from the twelfth precinct in order to drive himself around; the familiar map being easy to navigate through.

 

It was now the middle of April, with the snow thinning on the grounds, but the chill still remaining in the air. Over two-and-a-half months since R.K. had left with one directive in mind. Eleven weeks since his wages had shifted from paying for an apartment in Parkvale Ave., to paying for a mortgage on a modest house in Ailey Court.

 

Climbing the small steps at the front of this house, the android balanced two bags of groceries he had purchased from the supermarket downtown in one hand, before coming to knock on the plywood door with the other.

 

He could use his key to open the door himself, though he did not want to startle his housemate.

 

_Knock knock knock._

 

Still no answer.

 

Faintly, R.K. could hear the sound of a vacuum-cleaner in use.

 

Ah. It was cleaning day.

 

The android allowed himself a small smile at that, before pulling out a key from his jacket pocket. He opened the door of the house, before letting himself inside, bag of groceries still in hand.

 

He made his way through a narrow hallway, pulling his shoes off at the doorway, before making a turn to the right. He cut through the living room, arriving at the kitchen in order to place the bag of groceries on the kitchen counter.

 

His smile returned when he heard the vacuum-cleaner being turned off and footsteps rustling into the living room.

 

“R.K.! You made it back! Welcome home, my dear.”

 

R.K. turned around to accept the enveloping hug, his mechanical heart warming at the gesture.

 

He eventually pulled back to look down at the woman before him. “How are you Mrs. Jones?”

 

Mrs. Jones was always a sight to behold. She was warm and bright and had a presence that could only make one think of home. Her beautiful dark skin was unmarred; the signs of ageing such as the crows feet around her copper-brown eyes, the laugh lines around her mouth and her greying wiry hair, only adding to the beauty of her humanity.

 

Her smile never failed to lighten R.K.’s mood.

 

Even when she pretended to chastise him, just as now, R.K. could only feel fond. “How many times do I have to ask you to call me Althea, my boy?”

 

R.K.’s smile turned crooked. “Never,” he teased. “I went and did some shopping today.”

 

“I can see that,” the sixty-year old hummed, rummaging through the bags. “A few ingredients in here that go into a pepperoni pizza.” She raised a knowing brow at R.K..

 

R.K. played coy, shrugging. “Maybe.”

 

Mrs. Jones laughed, the sound hearty and vibrant. “Of course. I knew there had to be an agenda.”

 

R.K.. came around to kiss her on the cheek. “The only agenda is to take care of you.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. I see how it is.” Her demeanour was entirely playful. “Go have a shower and make yourself comfortable. I’ll get dinner ready.”

 

“Only if you don’t need help.”

 

“Go on shoo, I don’t want any interference with my cooking.” R.K. laughed at that, before doing as the woman requested, walking toward the direction of his room.

 

He looked around in his closet, finding the few items of clothing he had left there, before heading for the shower.

 

In reality, androids had no _real_ need to shower, as they did not perspire nor did they have a need to excrete. Sure R.K. was a model that could eat, but the acidic fluid inside his ‘digestive tract’ dissolved any food that entered his system.

 

But doing activities that a human partook in, meant dust and grime and pollutants of the day would still come into contact with R.K.’s synthetic skin, hence a shower was more than warranted.

 

R.K. turned on the shower, before getting under the spray of the water, feeling his artificial muscles loosening from the heat.

 

The events of the past twenty-four hours had wholly mentally exhausted R.K.. From revealing to the public about Anara Kamski’s possible involvement in the deviancy virus, to the interactions with both Connor and Hank Anderson, to finding out everything that had supposedly happened with Gavin Reed, it was all just too much for R.K. to handle.

 

_You’ll do the right thing and you’ll march on down to the precinct and apologise for what you’ve done._

 

R.K. was not looking to apologise nor was he looking for forgiveness.

 

The reasons he had taken the steps that he had, were designed to protect himself, and ultimately help protect the people, the humans he had now come to care for.

 

If the Believer case did not get resolved than countless other human lives could be endangered. Could be lost. All because of androids.

 

_Who is your God?_

 

A question that had been posed by Althea Jones.

 

In hindsight, R.K. had not known Althea Jones for very long. Though in this time, he had come to know that the African-American woman was a woman of faith - as she’d liked to remark.

 

Christian she was. And had been raised in a family that had practiced this religion for generations.

 

Though when R.K. had simply looked back at her in confusion when he had been posed that question, Althea Jones had simply smiled.

 

_I know these androids are doing silly things in the name of their God, but that is not what religion is about R.K.. You find faith in the things that give meaning to your life. There is no point in believing in a God when you are aimless._

 

_Where do you think is the most worthwhile place to find the meaning in life?_

 

Even though R.K. did not believe in a higher power, he could appreciate the fact that there was a stark difference between peaceful people of faith such as Althea Jones, and the radical extremists such as Superior androids who used religion as an excuse to validate their garbage supremicist views. 

 

Harming innocents over some fabled God that likely did not exist.

 

Or could it really be that God did exist?

 

And was R.K. now one step closer to finding them?

 

Was it the plurality of the Kamski twins? Or just Anara Kamski herself?”

 

And if they were God, then did R.K. _believe_ in them?

 

Of course not. They were only humans. Not born of divinity or ‘grand design.’ They were not omniscient nor omnipotent.

 

None of that mattered at the end of the day anyway.

 

Androids were doing reckless things to find salvation, and R.K. could not think of a more worthless cause. He couldn’t let these mindless androids hurt the humans that were dear to him. They had already stolen so much from Mrs. Jones. Her grandson. Her home. Her wellbeing. All lost in a matter of days because of androids.

 

After her grandson had been shot by an android, overcome by grief and illness, despite working two jobs, Mrs. Jones had not been able to keep her home. R.K. had been there at the day of the callout. The day a Believer android shot a young security guard who had gone to investigate a disturbance at an apartment building. The same apartment building the android had been threatening to set fire to. The android had been taken into custody, though twenty-one year old Niklaus Jones had not been fortunate enough to leave the building alive.

 

When his grandmother had found out the news at the D.P.D., R.K. had had to witness the woman completing breaking down in front of him, watching with his own eyes how far and how deep human sorrow could run. An experience androids could never know. Could never feel. This woman who had now lost the only family she had had left, would be left to suffer with this knowledge for the rest of her days, suffer with this misery for as long as she breathed. She could not afford the luxury to simply forget. To simply upload her memory onto a database and erase the parts that she did not want. Her grandson had not been afforded the luxury to find a new body. (He would remain dead forever).

 

R.K. had visited Althea Jones at every opportunity he had gotten at the makeshift St. Luke’s shelter. Despite how mentally taxing the reality of her situation had been to him, he had had to soldier through it, seeing as Mrs. Jones herself, would be suffering far worse. Within the time that he had gotten to know her, he had found himself being drawn to her humanity, like an infant becoming self-aware of the innate warmth of its mother, for the first time. Much the same way young Alice seemed drawn to Kara.

 

Althea Jones’ suffering became R.K.’s own, and try as he might, he couldn’t completely let go of her.

 

So a few months down the track found R.K. purchasing a home under her name, though the woman had been resistant to the idea at first. It took R.K. promising her that he would live with her as well while in Detroit, for her to eventually come around to the idea. She had burst into tears when this house on Ailey Court had become her own; her thankfulness at the gesture, her thankfulness _for_ R.K. continuing to spill from her lips. The heavens had blessed her, Althea Jones had said. She had found a son to love, who had been sent by Niklaus to watch over her.

 

R.K. had obviously not agreed with the last sentiment, the android reflected, as he watched the last bit of water in the shower drain away after turning off the tap. Though he had not voiced this belief out loud to Mrs. Jones, allowing the sixty-year old woman her moment of happiness.

 

R.K. walked out of the shower, wiping his body down before running the towel through his hair.

 

Althea Jones loved him.

 

Supposedly.

 

But R.K. didn’t know what that meant. Didn’t think he understood the concept. He had read about it of course. The description of the emotion was fascinating. But he still found himself struggling with fathoming its true depth.

 

_Do you even care what you’ve done to us, what you’ve done to Gavin Reed?_

 

_We don’t just abandon each other. We don’t abandon the people that we care about, so that begs the question, did you even care?_

 

Humans loved all the time.

 

They loved their spouses, their children, their family in general, their friends, people who shaped their lives, their faith, their material possessions and so on.

 

They had such a wide capacity to just… _feel_.

 

To feel and accept these emotions, and to balance them all simultaneously.

 

How could that even be possible? How could one find the courage, the strength to bear this burden?

 

R.K. took his time getting dressed, looking at his reflection in the mirror for the longest time, thoughts racing in his head mercilessly, before the android admitted defeat and headed over to the kitchen; a form of nostalgia hitting him at the smell of pepperoni pizza.

 

_Pizza is life bruhv, I don’t make the rules._

 

R.K. was not looking to apologise nor was he looking for forgiveness.

 

He had to protect the humans he cared about… and himself.

 

Althea Jones wouldn’t have much more left of her life, as each day went by. R.K. would outlive her and beyond. But R.K. had made peace with that, so as to speak. After all, he had purchased this house under her name for a reason. He did not intend to stay.

 

His arrival to Detroit was only born of momentary necessity, and he had to keep the illusion of a compromise with Mrs. Jones at least initially. He would soon return to D.C. to continue his life there, solely focusing on work, and less on the people around him. Life was different there. It was always about the job, and always about the discipline of protecting the country. Very little opportunity to form any kind of attachments. Even if the opportunity were to present itself, R.K. was now wise enough to snuff it before it even had the chance to grow into anything.

 

Althea Jones would be none the wiser. She would have the chance to continue living out the rest of her days in peace, not having to battle two jobs to make ends meet, nor having to battle medical bills in order to continue surviving. R.K. would take care of that from far away.

 

He had accomplished what he had intended - allow the woman the dignity of living her human life, at least attempt to make amends for what androids had taken from her, and thank her in turn for showing him kindness, for understanding that not all androids were to blame for the crimes of a few, and for providing him comfort in times he had needed solace.

 

Yes, Althea Jones, R.K. had made peace with. Gavin Reed though…

 

R.K. knew that he would not be able to handle watching any harm come to Gavin Reed. Would not be able to come to terms with the grief that would cause him. Worst of all was the idea that an android might be the one hurt him, to sacrifice Reed in the name of God. An android like R.K.. Androids that Gavin Reed had resented with a vengeance in the past. A resentment he had forgone for R.K.’s sake. Androids he had learned to trust because of R.K..

 

To then know, that androids were now deliberately endangering humans, humans that were no different to Reed, made a fear so unpleasant take a hold of R.K., that the android felt as though he would go insane if this hypothetical scenario became a reality.

 

So R.K. had to do everything within his power to make sure this Believer case got resolved. To ensure no more harm would come to the public. No android would deliberately hurt Althea Jones again.

 

No android had the potential to hurt Gavin Reed. _His_ Gavin Reed.

 

No, R.K. was not looking to apologise, nor was he looking for forgiveness.

 

He had to protect himself from the painful inevitable, and to ensure the safety of those who, for now, mattered to him most.

 

 

—||—

 

 

_Knock knock. Knock knock. Knock knock -_

 

The door finally opened to reveal a woman, not much older than himself. Her dark hair was tied up in a ponytail; pale cheeks illuminated slightly by the moonlight.

 

The chilled night of Fall caused goosebumps along his body.

 

He buried his hands inside his coat pockets.

 

Eyes that were a different shade of blue than his own registered no surprise at seeing him.

 

“Hello little brother,” left full lips as the woman regarded him.

 

He nodded to her in acknowledgement.

 

 

_“Anara.”_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was really nice to talk to everyone last time. Hope you'll drop by again.
> 
> (Edit: PLEASE READ!!!!!
> 
> so almost 10,000 words this chapter and I don't want /everyone/ to miss the mark. its purpose wasn't to villainise R.K. nor have people just yell at him; the intent was the exact opposite in fact. It was to give weight to his actions and offer an explanation into what he /has/ been doing and why he went down the road that he did. That his intentions are not malicious, but rather born from a place of concern - the introduction of Althea Jones was meant to reflect this. He innately wants to care for this woman he had no prior relationship with, showing empathy that even many humans lack. While I appreciate that people are upset by what effect this has had on Gavin, you cannot expect one person to bear the complete burden of another person's wellbeing/ happiness, /especially/ when they themselves are not /okay/. 
> 
> I dislike having to explain things in any story I write, because I believe that as a writer, it is your job to do that with your writing, because if you are unable to do that, then what is even the point? But clearly, I seemed to have missed the mark if people don't at least understand R.K.'s perspective. In reality, aside from a surface question of, 'are you alright?' no one in the story has really attempted to understand or empathise with R.K.'s concern (he even says this in this chapter!) , no-one's sat him down and said 'I /understand/ what you are going through, and I /will/ help you get through this because this is how I've learnt to cope,' but instead everybody seems to /tell/ him how to behave, that he should be grateful for being liberated, going so far as to label him as a 'moody ass'. Hank yelling at R.K. was not supposed to be heralded as a victory, but it was a reflection of what happens when you unload your emotional burden onto someone, without really listening to their side of the story, or even attempting to understand. His words have seemed to make R.K. draw even further into himself. Then again, threatening to cause bodily harm to someone isn't going to make them receptive to your concerns.  
> R.K. /is/ struggling. His mental illness may not present in the same way that Gavin's does, and we seem to relate more to Gavin, because he displays his symptoms in a very human way, in a way that we've all dealt with in our lives, but that doesn't make what R.K. is going through any less valid. He's barely had two years with his emotions, barely been 'free' for two years, and now he's burdened with the purpose of navigating through a life that is different from the one designed (why do you think so many Believer androids exist in this story???). We say we all have the same struggle, but we really don't. We are born human. R.K. was not. From the moment we are born, we have had people that have helped us navigate through life (whether our parents, our caregivers, our teachers etc), but R.K. has not. I mean the fact that he thinks so highly of humans should be reflection enough that something is not o.k. with him/ that he quite clearly has issues with self-worth. Because he doesn't know any better. Gavin Reed's struggles are valid. But so are R.K.'s.  
> I'm sorry for rambling but for my own peace of mind, I wanted to put this out there. Interpret the story as you so choose, because that is your right, and that is the nature of this art form, but please bear my considerations in mind, especially when thinking of R.K. If I have failed to get my purpose across with this story, then there really should be no point in me continuing).


	6. Anara Kamski

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So some of the comments to the previous chapter left me feeling really disappointed with how it was interpreted, and as a result I went and amended the author's note at the end. I wasn't upset with the people commenting themselves, but rather that the chapter's purpose seemed to have been missed entirely, which is a poor reflection upon the writing ability of an author. So I'm going to post the previous author's note here as well, in case people missed it. It summarises what needs to be taken into consideration while reading the story. It reads as follows:  
> _____
> 
> "Almost 10,000 words [the previous] chapter and I don't want /everyone/ to miss the mark. Its purpose wasn't to villainise R.K. nor have people just yell at him; the intent was the exact opposite in fact. It was to give weight to his actions and offer an explanation into what he /has/ been doing and why he went down the road that he did. That his intentions are not malicious, but rather born from a place of concern - the introduction of Althea Jones was meant to reflect this. He innately wants to care for this woman he had no prior relationship with, showing empathy that even many humans lack. While I appreciate that people are upset by what effect this has had on Gavin, you cannot expect one person to bear the complete burden of another person's wellbeing/ happiness, /especially/ when they themselves are not /okay/.
> 
> I dislike having to explain things in any story I write, because I believe that as a writer, it is your job to do that with your writing, because if you are unable to do that, then what is even the point? But clearly, I seemed to have missed the mark if people don't at least understand R.K.'s perspective. 
> 
> In reality, aside from a surface question of, 'are you alright?' no one in the story has really attempted to understand or empathise with R.K.'s concern (he even says this in [the previous] chapter!), no-one's sat him down and said 'I /understand/ what you are going through, and I /will/ help you get through this because this is how I've learnt to cope,' but instead everybody seems to /tell/ him how to behave, that he should be grateful for being liberated, going so far as to label him as a 'moody ass'. Hank yelling at R.K. was not supposed to be heralded as a victory, but it was a reflection of what happens when you (Hank) unload your emotional burden onto someone (R.K.), without really listening to their side of the story, or even attempting to understand. His words have seemed to make R.K. draw even further into himself. Then again, threatening to cause bodily harm to someone isn't going to make them receptive to your concerns.
> 
> R.K. /is/ struggling. His mental illness may not present in the same way that Gavin's does, and we seem to relate more to Gavin, because he displays his symptoms in a very human way, in a way that we've all dealt with in our lives, but that doesn't make what R.K. is going through any less valid. He's barely had two years with his emotions, barely been 'free' for two years, and now he's burdened with the purpose of navigating through a life that is different from the one designed (why do you think so many Believer androids exist in this story???). 
> 
> We say we all have the same struggle, but we really don't. We are born human. R.K. was not. From the moment we are born, we have had people that have helped us navigate through life (whether our parents, our caregivers, our teachers etc), but R.K. has not. I mean the fact that he thinks so highly of humans should be reflection enough that something is not o.k. with him/ that he quite clearly has issues with self-worth. Because he doesn't know any better. Gavin Reed's struggles are valid. But so are R.K.'s.
> 
> I'm sorry for rambling but for my own peace of mind, I wanted to put this out there. Interpret the story as you so choose, because that is your right, and that is the nature of this art form, but please bear my considerations in mind, especially when thinking of R.K. If I have failed to get my purpose across with this story, then there really should be no point in me continuing)."  
> _____
> 
> I might also suggest reading the (very detailed) reply I left under my friend's comment on the previous chapter for further clarification, as well as her comment itself, as she captures a good understanding of aspects of the story too.

_“How do you cope with the knowledge that she’s never going to age?”_

 

_R.K.’s blue eyes assessed the other android’s own gray, attempting to decipher the enigma that was Kara. He was sat on the couch opposite from hers in her modest Ontario home, while her gaze every now and again drifted to the two figures outside, playing in the diminishing snow._

 

_Kara smiled pleasantly at R.K., brushing back ashen hair that had fallen into her eyes. “I don’t really think about it. That’s not what family means to me.” Her eyes flickered to young Alice outside. “I could look after her for the rest of my days and it wouldn’t matter to me. I would be content.”_

 

_Kara tilted her head just so in apparent contemplation. “Besides, there is always software out there that could allow her to mentally grow, and if she so chooses her data can be transferred to an older body.”_

 

_R.K. followed Kara’s gaze through the nearby window to witness Alice, and the male android who had introduced himself as Luther, awkwardly force in a carrot in the position where the nose would be, on an enormous snowman._

 

_“I’ve gone through a lot of hardship to get here,” Kara admitted out loud, “to finally live in comfort with my family without fear of persecution. I wouldn’t trade any of it for the world, as the humans would say.”_

 

_R.K. was curious as he looked back at his fellow android. From all that he’d come to know about her, R.K. had to know how one could be so brave? “How did you cope with the struggle? Live with the fear that you could have failed? That you might have been caught and her life could’ve been in danger?” R.K. asked of Kara, gesturing to Alice outside._

 

_“Well that’s what freedom is all about, isn’t it?” Kara responded matter-of-factly, laughing when Alice cheered loudly, after steadying herself on Luther’s broad shoulders. “You would risk anything and everything to have it and keep it. I can’t imagine my life without Alice, or Luther, and we were all part of the fight for our freedom. Don’t get me wrong. I worried. Every single day. But all of it was worth it to finally get here. To finally live out the rest of my days with the two of them.”_

 

 

R.K. twirled the encoded plastic keycard between his fingers over and over again. He had re-read the letter that had accompanied it in the package this morning, at least fifteen times since he had opened it; his mind drifting in an out of the conversation he had had with the AX400 model, Kara, several weeks ago.

 

_‘All of it was worth it to finally get here.’_

 

Was it really?

 

Was the pain and mental torment really worth it to be ‘free?’

 

Was the concept of freedom actually real or just a figment of everyone’s imagination?

 

Was anyone ever _truly_ free?

 

And if granted the freedom to think for oneself, then why willingly choose that path, when all it ultimately lead to was suffocating emotional burdens, which were near impossible to escape from?

 

Was it worth it?

 

R.K. took another drink of the thirium he had brought along with him in the morning, blinking his eyes into focus as he felt his mind starting to clear once again.

 

Perhaps he was becoming addicted to the blue blood Reinhart had given him all those month ago, intended to be used for emergencies only? R.K. found himself caring less and less. There wasn’t much of the substance left remaining in the bottle anyway. Difficult to battle addiction if there was nothing left to contribute to it. But the effect the thirium had on his mind and internal systems was hard to miss. Maybe he could pay a visit to the Robotics engineer sometime in the near future?

 

“Do you trust it?”

 

R.K. placed the bottle of thirium back down on his desk at precinct twelve, the smallest of all precincts of Detroit Police, where Markus and the Task Force had momentarily set up base. They had about another week left in Detroit, liaising with CyberLife, before they returned to D.C. and Congress finally subpoenaed a still yet-to-respond Anara Kamski.

 

R.K. glanced up at a contemplative Simon, the blond android nodding at the keycard in R.K.’s hand; the congressional Task Force badge on his chest, catching the white of the artificial light in the room every now and again.

 

Markus’ partner was an easy going android, who was also trustworthy, reliable and efficient. It wasn’t difficult to see why Markus valued his companionship so much and why the congressman had selected Simon to be a part of the Task Force.

 

Simon had been invaluable when the team had had to encounter hostile Believer situations in recent weeks; the android able to defuse these situations without any violent outcomes.

 

R.K. did not believe in negotiating with terrorists, but seeing as Simon’s way lead to no casualties, R.K. had had to concede, while appreciating his fellow android’s skill.

 

“I don’t know,” R.K. answered truthfully, pale-blue eyes lingering on the letter on his desk. “Guess there’s only one way to find out.”

 

Simon raised a brow, obviously sceptical of the answer. “Are you suggesting we address CyberLife about this? Or go undercover…?”

 

R.K. ran a hand through his dark hair, shifting his gaze to glance briefly in the direction where Markus stood conversing with Matthews, the captain of the twelfth precinct.“Do you honestly think CyberLife are just going to let us walk in there and willingly let us access their classified information? They’re obviously going to view this as a massive breach of their security systems and privacy.”

 

Simon let out a short, humourless laugh, that was more of a huff of air. “Of course they’re not. So you’re comfortable with infiltrating their headquarters?”

 

The irrational urge to roll his eyes hit R.K. hard just then. “I doubt that would be legal.”

 

“We might not have any choice…” Special Agent Isaac Travis, who had been delegated to be leader of this congressional Task Force, was the one to answer R.K.; approaching R.K.’s desk and coming to stand next to Simon.

 

Though before R.K. could respond with a counterargument of his own, Travis’ anthracite-black eyes abruptly grew large, the man looking back in the direction of the doorway to the precinct, his expression disbelieving. “Oh… my God.”

 

Simon’s expression mirrored Travis’ own, blond brows pulled together. “Oh. _Oh._ ”

 

As if on cue, all other heads within the precinct turned toward the direction of the doorway, promoting R.K. to do the same, and what the android saw before him had him jumping out of his seat.

 

_“…Reed.”_

 

Before R.K. was none other than Gavin Reed, dressed in casual clothing, looking like he hadn’t slept in weeks, making his way up the isle to where Captain Matthews now stood, staring bewildered at Reed and the people that had accompanied him.

 

People including Lieutenant Anderson and Connor, who were trailing not far behind Reed.

 

However, neither of the two were the ones to catch everyone’s surprise. It was the figure to Reed’s immediate right, walking alongside the man, before coming to pause in front of Captain Matthews and a wary looking Markus.

 

Her wavy black hair was loose around her shoulders; the pale skin of her face artfully dressed up in makeup. Ice-blue eyes regarded the congressman in front of her.

 

However, it was Reed who was the one to speak next. “Representative Markus,” he said calmly, head shifting to address the figure to his right. “I’d like you to meet my sister,

 

“Anara Kamski.”

 

 

—||—

 

 

“You’ve been a hard one to get a hold of Ms. Kamski. We’ve spent several weeks trying to get in touch with you, and yet you’ve made no attempt to respond.”

 

R.K. joined the other two members of the Task Force present in Markus’ makeshift office, standing next to them by the far wall.

 

Markus, the one questioning Anara Kamski, stood across from where she had chosen to make herself comfortable on the couch, the woman ignoring the seat at the desk, while Reed had positioned himself behind her, leaning next to the door; eyes downcast and focused on a random point on the carpeted floor.

 

Connor, Anderson and Captain Matthews had chosen to remain outside in the precinct.

 

R.K.’s attention would have been taken up by Reed on any other day - drawn to the way his shoulders were slouched, his seemingly thinner frame, the tired lines on his face, the distant smell of smoke on his person, how he was refusing to look directly at any one individual. Though, his sister’s ( _his sister!_ ) presence was all-consuming, like gravity drawing you to its centre without fail.

 

Her mannerisms screamed _standoffish;_ arms placed on her thighs as she leaned forward, a downward turn to pink lips, her expression unsmiling.

 

“Is that why you took it to the media? ’Cause I wasn’t responding to your bullying attempts?”

 

Markus seemed to be taken aback by her defensive response, but the congressman, having dealt with animosity directed toward him multiple times in the past, adjusted his composure just fine. “There was no bullying going on. We simply wanted answers.”

 

“Answers you could have asked CyberLife for,” Kamski bit back. “There was no need to get me involved or make any of this public. The only reason I’m down here is because my brother,” here her eyes drifted briefly toward Reed before focusing back on Markus, “Gavin approached me about it. And obviously if this whole thing bothers him, then I have to clear my name. But know this, I don’t _need_ to answer anything to you.”

 

So having his sister be linked to a potentially dangerous situation, had obviously upset the detective. Of course family was always important to humans. The backbone of meaningful relationships to them were generally familial in nature.

 

In the time that R.K. had known Reed, the man had only very briefly mentioned his family. R.K. had known about his religious mother, who would go to church every Sunday without fail, which had lead R.K. to believe that perhaps she may have had something to do with the reason why Reed was an atheist, but nonetheless, she had been a mother who Reed had loved very much.

 

Unfortunately, due to circumstances not known to R.K., she had passed away. Reed’s father however, R.K. did not have fondness for…

 

Though Reed didn’t hold any grudges against the man for it, his father had been the one to give Reed the scar that he now bore across his nose. A thrown glass bottle to the face. Fortunately it had not done more damage.

 

Reed had said he had forgiven his father for it, and that there had been other factors at play that had lead to that outcome, although R.K. had not been pleased at the explanation, but had nonetheless conceded to it.

 

Family matters, R.K. had learned a long time ago, not to press humans on (unless they specifically wanted to talk about them).

 

Reed’s father had passed away as well.

 

However, Reed had not once mentioned a half-sibling, let alone famous twin siblings. Seeing as the Kamskis were almost three years older than Reed himself, and the obvious difference in surnames, it would make no other sense than to conclude that the half-siblings all shared the same mother.

 

Given what R.K. had come to know about the man, he could see why Reed may have chosen to conceal this information. Fame was not something the man coveted, and seemed to be more like his sister in that regard, shying away from attention, especially the public kind.

 

Though, that still did not lessen the sting, the concealment of this information left R.K. Then again, R.K. had forsaken any right to complain.

 

“You actually do,” Markus answered Kamski matter-of-factly. “By law, if Congress was to subpoena you, you would have to give us answers. No matter how innocent you may ultimately be Ms. Kamski, we still require these answers, and we _will_ get to the bottom of this, one way or another. Nonetheless, I am glad you have decided to approach us yourself.”

 

Anara Kamski’s response was brusque. “Well get to it then. What the hell do you want from me?”

 

“I’m sure you are perfectly aware,” Markus responded patiently, the android taking off his suit jacket, before placing it against the back of the chair at his desk, “that it’s regarding this learning code. We want answers about it.”

 

“What kind of answers?”

 

“Firstly, what is it? And secondly, why did you refuse to be credited for it?”

 

“That it? Ugh…” Kamksi rolled her eyes. “So I created a code, what of it?”

 

“Well it appears to be the case that this code may be linked to the deviancy virus.”

 

“You have no link for that at all!” Kamksi scoffed; her demeanour becoming increasingly unpleasant. “You’re just pulling shit out of your ass. With all due respect _Congressman._ ”

 

Her resemblance to Reed wasn’t immediately noticed, though the longer R.K. watched and heard her speak, the more obvious it became. Although she had gained weight over the years - seen more acutely a year following her made-public divorce - the resemblance was there.

 

Her face was symmetrical much in the same way Reed’s was, and they shared a similar nose. However, it was their manner of speaking and body language that stood out the most about the two.

 

The crass, blunt and unapologetic nature of their speech.

 

Short tempered, to-the-point, and uncontrollable volatile personalities.

 

The adult, Anara Kamski had grown up to be, was starkly different from the smiling baby-faced teenager R.K. could recall seeing, in the picture hung up at Reinhart Engineering.

 

Had Reed suffered a similar fate? R.K. had no childhood pictures of the man to go by, so he couldn’t be certain. But if so… then what had happened to the two siblings? And why did Elijah Kamski seem to be the one, out of the three siblings, who had come out unscathed?

 

“How so?” Markus pushed back, while simultaneously rolling up the sleeves of his cinnamon-brown satin shirt. “This one particular code, we have not seen in any other android model thus far, apart from the AX series. It is a learning code that differs from virtually every other code that is part of the android makeup, which allows androids to almost emulate human behaviour.”

 

“How do you know that?” was Kamski’s unimpressed response.

 

“This information was leaked to us.”

 

Blue eyes the same shade as Elijah Kamski’s - different from Reed’s own - narrowed perceptibly. “And you expect me to believe this? For it to hold up any kind of credibility?” Kamski spread her arms wide, shaking her head in the process, dark hair following the gesture. “I could say I’m fucking Tarzan living in Antartica for the past eight-hundred years, that doesn’t mean shit.”

 

“These documents are CyberLife certified,” Markus asserted, struggling to keep himself composed. Anara Kamski sure did know how to put up a fight. “Even if they weren’t leaked from CyberLife directly, these documents are in fact theirs. It’s classified information and is _legitimate_. You are however, still not answering the questions posed.”

 

“ _Listen,_ this learning code was nothing more than a fucking _learning code_ , alright? It’s not my fault CyberLife chose not to incorporate it into any other model. I wasn’t the only person involved in this project just F.Y.I. in case you hadn’t figured it out yourselves.” The woman’s sarcasm was not lost on anybody present in the room.

 

Hidden shrewdly underneath this sarcasm however, was the fact that she was lying.

 

This wasn’t _just_ a learning code.

 

“There were multiple other engineers involved with this,” she continued, her tone patronising, “and ultimately the ones that chose to stay would have decided which codes were used and which _weren’t_. If CyberLife decided to scrap this code, then that’s not my fucking fault.

 

“The AX series is a household model. Of course it was designed to evolve and adapt.” Kamksi threw her hands up in the air in obvious annoyance. “Or maybe CyberLife fucking forgot about it! They forgot this code even existed in the first place. It wasn’t meant to emulate human behaviour. It was designed to evolve androids in a way that allowed them to be able to perform certain tasks, okay? That is the basic structure of the code.”

 

Lie again.

 

(Though she lied very convincingly).

 

“You want answers,” she told Markus, “you ask CyberLife and CyberLife engineers why they didn’t incorporate the code into any other model. Why they chose to make it obsolete.”

 

Simon shifted from next to R.K., asking a question of his own. “Why did you not want to be credited for it then?”

 

“Ohhh, you got me there!” Kamski responded sarcastically; lines that had seemed to age her face beyond her forty years, hardening. “ _Please_ … This code wasn’t the only one I worked on.”

 

Wait.

 

_What?_

 

As far as R.K. was aware, Anara Kamski had only worked on this one particular code and nothing else. At least that was what the leaked information had suggested. But if it turned out that she had been involved with other work… then attempting to prove that her code had anything to do with the deviancy virus would become harder to prove, and may potentially give less significance to this code.

 

“I didn’t want to be credited for any of it,” Kamski admitted with aggression. “This was _Eli’s_ baby, not mine. I didn’t want the high life, I didn’t want the flashing cameras or any kind of ugly attention that fame brought with it. My brother wanted help, _so I helped him._ But I didn’t want anything else to do with androids or CyberLife. I don’t trust monkeys in suits, so fucking sue me.”

 

The obvious jab at Markus made the congressman bite his bottom lip, in an apparent attempt to hold back any kind of retort.

 

Reed had still not moved from his position next to the door, the man still seeming like he wanted to make a hasty exist when the time came.

 

In the rare moments R.K.’s eyes had flickered to his person, seeing as Reed’s sister commanded all the attention in the room, R.K. had noticed Reed’s expression become almost bitter any time Elijah Kamski or his legacy was mentioned, and equally as indignant any time his sister replied to Markus’ questions fervently.

 

Though he seemed to hold himself back from commenting or coming to his sister’s defence. Perhaps, he had wanted to hear her side of the story for himself, or maybe he already had, and had wanted to give his sister the opportunity to defend herself. Then again, Anara Kamski did not seem to require anybody’s help in holding her own.

 

“Why are you asking me all of this anyway?” Kamski demanded of Markus. “Go talk to Eli about it. He was in charge, he’ll know more about it than I do.”

 

“He said there were personal reasons you didn’t want credit,” Travis responded from Simon’s left. The special agent had been the one to contact Elijah Kamski when the truth about his sister’s involvement had been made public. The former C.E.O. of CyberLife had not offered much in terms of explanation, as was supposedly the case with the man. He apparently tended to be more cryptic than open.

 

“Well there you fucking go,” Kamski gestured toward Travis. “What more do you want from me?”

 

She finally shifted from her seat on the couch, standing to full height. Like her siblings, she was on the shorter end of the human spectrum. Though what she lacked in height, she made up for in a dominant personality.

 

“Fact is,” she said, pointing an accusing finger at Markus, “none of you assholes can actually prove that my code lead to this deviancy bullshit. All you’ve got is accusation without causation. This code exists and it only exists in one type of android series. Some hacker asshole’s supposedly told you that it’s meant to emulate human behaviour when it really doesn’t. When it, _as its name suggests_ , is nothing more than a fucking learning code.”

 

She walked towards Markus with purposeful strides, coming to stand very close to him. “Unless you’ve got concrete proof that this code was the one to lead to deviancy, you’ve got nothing here. You cannot accuse me of any crimes.”

 

On any other day, it would have been comical to see a woman of her height attempting to intimidate an android, who also happened to be a member of parliament, but her attempt in this moment was mostly successful. At least R.K. felt unnerved by her, and Markus appeared to be as well; his body tensing up.

 

Albeit the other android was much better at concealing any felt apprehension, than R.K. would have been able to in his position.

 

“This is not an accusation,” Markus attempted to counter.

 

Kamski was not appeased. “Really?” she threw back. “Going on live T.V. and essentially suggesting that this deviancy Believer bullshit is somehow related to me, is not blaming me for it?” she scoffed. “Get out of here.

 

“I may not be as charismatic as my twin brother, but I’m not fucking dumb either. You’ve got nothing on me and unless you wanna get sued, you go out there and you tell the public, I had nothing to do with this.”

 

R.K. doubted very much that one could just simply _sue_ a congressional committee, given that it was their job to perform the relevant kind of investigation for the purpose of which they had been formed. Given the current climate with the Believer movement, within the realm of reason, any kind of questioning as the humans would say, was fair game.

 

Kamski stared down Markus for an uncomfortably long amount of time before, with an unpleasant twist to her mouth, the woman made her way toward the door, grabbing her brother by the arm.

 

She paused to address the room at large one final time.

 

“I want this mess to be over and I don’t want to have any part of it. Unless you can charge me with something, leave me the fuck alone.”

 

 

—||—

 

 

“Your sister is _Anara Kamski?_ ”

 

Hurried footsteps through the park halted; Gavin Reed turning around to address him, gray eyes unimpressed. “What of it?” His voice was scratchy, as if unused in days.

 

“You couldn’t have mentioned that previously?”

 

Reed looked worse for wear. His skin was sallow, dark circles under his eyes were ever-prominent in the unforgiving daylight, his hair was unkempt and there was a slight twitch to his fingers, as if the man was fighting down an urge of some kind.

 

R.K.’s mechanical heart felt like it was being squeezed in his chest.

 

_No._

 

_Focus._

 

_(Please, please stop doing this to yourself.)._

 

Reed shook his head in indignation. “Un-fucking-believable. We’re talking about keeping secrets, huh? Where the fuck have you been for the last three months? Hounding my sister obviously.”

 

“Well if I’d known she was your sister -” R.K. had to pause at that. What would he have done if Reed _had_ told him the truth about his family? Would that knowledge have ultimately changed the decisions R.K. had chosen to make?

 

The revelation did make R.K. infinitely more curious but… did that curiosity outweigh the importance of R.K.'s ultimate goal?

 

Reed’s gaze was accusatory. “What? You would have talked to me then? Approached me then? Rather than fucking running off to God knows where?”

 

The detective took a step closer toward R.K. making R.K.’s breath catch, before the man thought better of it and took a few steps back instead.“My sister may have issues, but she’s _not_ a monster. She’s not responsible for all of this.” Reed gestured vaguely, apparently growing increasingly frustrated. “And now you know. So leave her the fuck alone.”

 

R.K.’s response was immediate. “She’s not being honest.”

 

_She’s not being honest with you._

 

“She just told you what she knows!”

 

“Yes.” R.K. nodded. “And she’s not being honest about it.”

 

“How would _you_ know that?” Reed demanded.

 

“There is information I am privy to that…” R.K. couldn’t continue. For obvious reasons, such as being a member of a congressional Task Force, he could not continue. Although, he wanted to tell Reed about the keycard that had been sent to him by the anonymous leaker. A keycard that apparently allowed access to CyberLife’s mainframe and to their classified information. But nobody outside the Task Force was allowed to know this. Especially not Anara Kamski’s, a suspect of sorts in the case, brother.

 

Though the concealment of this information from Reed had significant consequences to bear, as R.K. noticed the expression on the other man’s face fall even further, becoming completely despondent. “You can’t tell me right? You can’t tell me _shit._ I get it. I get it, you don’t -” and Reed’s voice breaking here, just about completely undid R.K. - “I mean nothing to you.”

 

_That couldn’t be further from the truth._

 

_You mean -_

 

_You mean -_

 

“I get it.”

 

Before R.K. could reach out, could offer up any kind of counterargument or consoling words, Reed had spun around and all but ran from him.

 

“You stay the fuck away from him!”

 

An angry face right up in his own, and a hard shove to the chest that sent a caught-off-guard R.K. two paces back, did not help matters.

 

“You got your answers now,” Anderson hurled at R.K.; the android feeling completely disoriented by the sudden turn of events. “Now make like a good little robot and get the fuck outta here.”

 

It took several seconds before R.K. was able to get his bearings right and focus on the man before him, registering the nature of the conversation. His mood soured immediately.

 

He certainly did not want to be conversing with this man. “I don’t answer to you Lieutenant,” R.K. bit back. “The investigation requires answers. And I am obtaining them.”

 

“You sure as fuck aren’t getting them from him,” Anderson growled, gesturing to the point where Reed had disappeared to from sight.

 

“You’re so fucking selfish you know that?” the lieutenant accused, his tone vitriolic and cruel. “An absolute prick. That kid’s a mess and you’ve just accused his sister of all this wrongdoing. How do you think that’s going to affect him, huh? You never learn R.K.. You haven’t learned a fucking thing!”

 

R.K. subconsciously took a few steps back, the words hitting him like angry fists; the android physically flinching at them.

 

_Stop._

 

_I’m not -_

 

_I…._

 

R.K.’s hands were shaking.

 

_'You are selfish.'_

 

_'You are just a fucking piece of plastic.'_

 

_'A robot.'_

 

_'You will never understand what it’s like to be human!'_

 

“A disgrace. A disgrace is what you and your behaviour are! You should be ashamed of yourself! Nothing more than an absolute disappointment -”

 

“Enough Hank!” Connor’s voice cutting through the tirade seemed to offer R.K. only a fractional amount of comfort; R.K. feeling like his entire body had gone numb despite the unnatural chill he could feel along his artificial skin.

 

“That is enough, alright? Enough!”

 

“You’re sticking up for him?”

 

Connor turned to face R.K., brown eyes concerned yet reassuring. “R.K. go back inside.”

 

When R.K. failed to move, Connor gently took him by the shoulder and turned him toward the direction of the precinct, which was directly opposite Hadley Park. “Go back inside,” Connor repeated, his voice much softer this time. “You don’t need to see this.” He nodded at R.K. “I’ll talk to you later, I promise.”

 

R.K. barely registered the reassuring words, before as if on auto-pilot, his feet started moving and he slowly made his way in the direction Connor had gestured.

 

 

—||—

 

 

“What the fuck are you doing?”

 

Connor rounded on Hank after watching R.K.’s retreating back, his expression livid. “Enough of this madness. You need to _cut him some slack_.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

Connor, who had observed the interaction Markus had had with Anara Kamski earlier, through a window into Markus’ office, had hung around the twelfth precinct afterwards, debriefing with Markus and Captain Matthews.

 

He had seen R.K. follow out after Gavin and his sister but had refrained from following himself, hoping that perhaps the two were finally going to talk. But then not long after, he had seen Hank leave the precinct as well, and the android had suspected nothing good would’ve become of that.

 

His suspicions had been proven correct when, from the entryway of the precinct, he had looked out into the distance, a few meters into Hadley Park, and had seen Hank’s hand aggressively make contact with the centre of R.K.’s chest, sending Connor’s younger counterpart stumbling a few steps back.

 

Connor in that moment, had felt the full force of his anger hit him like a runaway train. An emotion the android had not known he was capable of feeling.

 

“You have no idea what he’s going through, do you?”

 

“That’s ’cause he won’t talk to anybody!”

 

Connor couldn’t stand for this. “How much did _you_ talk to me when _you_ were suffering? How much has _Gavin Reed_ talked to anybody while suffering? How much did I when I was struggling with the concept of deviancy?”

 

Hank opened and closed his mouth a few times in order to retort, but appeared to struggle with his words.

 

“The last thing somebody needs when they are struggling, is to be told that they are a quote, ‘disappointment’, and a, ‘disgrace.’” Connor couldn’t help but feel disgust at what he had just been witness to and heard. Nobody deserved to hear words such as those thrown so callously at them. Least of all R.K. “He doesn’t have anybody in his corner.”

 

Hank threw his hands up in the air, “That’s his own choice!” which did nothing to appease Connor’s ire.

 

_What a ridiculous thing to say!_

 

“No it’s not!” Connor shook his head in disbelief. He couldn’t fathom how Hank, _his Hank_ , could be so cold and insensible.

 

“You humans, you have people that lead you along the way of life’s journey. From the moment you are born, you have people that look out for you - your parents, caregivers or guardians. You have support. We androids, do not have that luxury.

 

“To be fair, when I was struggling with the concept of deviancy, I had _you_ Hank. R.K. doesn’t have that! He feels like he has nobody he can rely on in the same way. He certainly has no family to guide him.”

 

Connor could remember that conversation he had had with R.K. just over a week ago. He had been initially upset with R.K. and the choices he had made, but then when he had allowed his counterpart the opportunity to speak, Connor had only just begun to realise the full extent of R.K.’s struggle.

 

R.K. had obviously not realised it himself, but the android had appeared and sounded as though he was breaking apart at the seams, barely holding himself together. His fear, his desperation, his anger, all laid bare for Connor to see.

 

The genuine fear R.K. had regarding the potential consequences of the Believer case, was f _ounded_.

 

R.K. was correct when he had disclosed, that he was the only one, who seemed to be taking its real threat seriously.

 

_‘Because for the rest of you, there were other things that you considered more important to your persons. Though this case took precedent over everything else in my meagre life. My mental wellbeing could not let it rest.’_

 

His meagre life. 

 

R.K. thought that his life was meaningless. 

 

And that to Connor, was the most tragic, heartbreaking thing of all. 

 

“A person who is comfortable with themselves, and with people around them, would not run. They most likely would not run all the way to the opposite end of the country. If we’d actually been there for him, he might have felt comfortable enough to approach us with his concerns, rather than believing that there was nobody that would care for him, if he did eventually leave.”

 

Hank’s grey brows were furrowed as he listened to Connor; his blue eyes bright in the morning sunlight peeking through between the trees of Hadley Park. His countenance was still disagreeable, though Connor was glad for the lack of interruption.

 

“He feels alone and he feels afraid, and I _can_ feel his fear. Every time I attempt to communicate with him through the interface, I can feel it.”

 

It was always an unpleasant feeling for Connor, any time in recent weeks he had attempted to contact R.K.. Any time he made a connection through the interface, there was this unsettling feeling that there was a hidden danger he couldn’t see or identify, that something bad was about to happen, but Connor could not understand when this would happen and what would be the assailant.

 

The anxiety this experience brought about terrified Connor.

 

The android shook his head. “And honestly I am disappointed with myself for not having done better. For not having recognised what he is going through, for not having pulled him aside and told him that _it’s going to be okay._ That at least I was somebody that _could_ understand. But all we’ve done is be more concerned with ourselves, and not really listen to what he’s been saying this entire time.

 

“This case is important. It _is_ important. And ultimately, its progression was made possible by R.K.. None of this would have come to fruition if it weren’t for him.”

 

Hank, who had folded his hands across his broad chest in stubbornness while Connor had continued to talk, snorted ungracefully. “What’s he done so far?”

 

Connor was indignant on R.K.’s behalf, his mouth hanging open in disbelief at Hank’s absurdity. “ _What’s he done Hank?_

 

“He’s formed a Task Force and found a potential link to deviancy. Whether or not Anara Kamski is being truthful about what she has disclosed, is another matter. From what I could surmise, she was quite clearly hiding something. Her hostile reactions alone was proof of that.”

 

Perhaps the software designer had been indignant at being publicly linked to the Believer phenomenon? Though that rang less true when the truth of the matter was, from what Connor had discovered, that she had been contacted privately many weeks prior to the information being made public. It was her refusal to respond to contact that had lead to the current situation in the first place. Her threat to take action against members of the legislative branch fell on deaf ears.

 

“Now I don’t know where this new-found love that you have for Gavin Reed, originated from, but it has unfortunately made you blind and _stupid_ to the obvious signs in front of you.”

 

Connor ignored Hank’s flailing at the accusation.

 

Had the old man forgotten that Gavin Reed had actually attempted to kill Connor in the past? While Connor didn’t believe in holding grudges and accepted that all beings had the capacity to change, that didn’t mean the android automatically deleted all prior interactions from his memory, nor was he suddenly complacent with certain troubling characteristics that he had been witness to in the past.

 

“Just because Anara Kamski is his sibling,” Connor soldiered on, “which is information that he has hidden from all of us - but you won’t be angry about that with him will you?” the android noted, pointing out the obvious hypocrisy in Hank’s argument. “Which is fair - people are allowed their secrets. But just because Kamski is his sibling, doesn’t mean that she is automatically being truthful.

 

“R.K. does not need people hurling accusations and expletives at him. That is _not_ going to make him more likely to interact with us. If anything it is likely to have the opposite effect. And it clearly has.”

 

Connor could acutely recall, how R.K. had seemed like he had been closing off from the world around him, the longer Hank had yelled at him previously. Connor had hated himself for not having intervened at all then, for having let Hank get away with all the awful things he had said to R.K..

 

But he would not allow it now. Not today. He would not let R.K. go undefended. Connor would not let him down again.

 

“You do not have to have android level intellect to observe that this is hitting him hard. And frankly, all you have done, is made matters worse,” Connor told Hank, unapologetic. “Because this is not going to help Gavin Reed, if he wants answers from R.K. or if he wants R.K. to ever speak to him again. If we ever hope for them to reconcile, yelling at R.K. is not going to ‘slap some sense into him.’

 

“R.K. and I are androids. We don’t exactly work or respond to caustic rhetoric, or as you would like to call it, ‘tough love,’ the same way humans do. We have not had generations to be able to deal with emotions, in order to react in the same nature as humans do. It’s high time we actually try and understand R.K.. No, _I_ tried to understand him, rather than push complete emotional burdens onto him.”

 

In hindsight, Connor had also regretted telling R.K. of what had become of Gavin, seeing as the detective’s wellbeing wasn’t R.K.’s responsibility. It had been clear at the time that R.K. had taken the outcome personally, and that is an added burden that the android should not have to bear. “He’s just an android trying to adapt to deviancy and obviously struggling with his own existence. And now you are attempting to make him bear the full burden of Gavin Reed’s emotional instability?”

 

Connor sighed, though his mood did not lighten. He appreciated Hank listening to him, but Connor would not have let the other man talk over him, or interrupt him nonetheless.

 

“He is not responsible for how Gavin Reed behaves - or the choices the detective ultimately ends up making. Yes, they were friends, and yes it hurts that R.K. felt like he needed to run. But the solution is not to make him feel guilty for the choices Gavin makes himself. Those choices are Gavin’s alone. You cannot expect a two-year old android to be the emotionally mature one in any relationship.”

 

“I’m not -”

 

Connor didn’t want to hear any of it. “You need to cut R.K. some slack and leave him alone, okay? If you cannot help him in the way that he needs, you need to leave him _alone._

 

“It’s about time somebody had _his_ back for a change.”

 

 

 

\--||—

 

 

Connor, still upset with the events of the morning, had had to walk away from Hank, seeing as the longer he spoke, the more discomposed he became.

 

He had turned back around, walking in the direction of the precinct, but had not been able to get far before stopping in his tracks.

 

“R.K….”

 

His counterpart slowly came into view from behind a pair of trees nearby, his blue eyes wet and distressed.

 

“I’m sorry you -” R.K. began, his voice breaking on the words. “I’m sorry you had a falling out with the Lieutenant over me. You didn’t have to do that…”

 

Connor’s heart broke at that. R.K. had obviously not returned back to the precinct, but had lingered in the park, likely having heard the conversation between him and Hank.

 

“I wanted to,” Connor admitted softly, his brows knitting together; expression empathetic.

 

“I know it’s terrifying,” he told R.K.. “I’ve been there. I’m _still_ terrified. There are days I don’t know if I’m sure of what it is that I am doing. I question myself so often, so I _understand_ R.K.. Just because it may seem that my behaviours are more human, that does not change the fact that I _am_ an android. I will _always_ be an android. This is how I was created. This is how you were created.”

 

R.K. eyes looked haunted, fatigued in a way that was not akin to androids. Connor’s counterpart looked so vulnerable in that moment, with his arms hanging loosely at this sides, his countenance forlorn, appearing younger than the years he was designed to be. Even though he towered over most of civilisation, the android appeared so small standing under the cover of the overhanging branches.

 

Connor slowly approached R.K. until he was standing directly in front of him, his tone reassuring. “We have barely had enough time to navigate through these emotions, and sometimes they are a nightmare. Literally for me. Every time I close my eyes, I am back with Amanda, and she’s taunting me. Or I’m behind Markus about to pull the trigger because I am being controlled by her and CyberLife - still their puppet.”

 

How could Connor ever forget being trapped in the snowy storm of the Zen Garden, about to be reduced back to being a machine forever? Having no will, no sentience, just being an empty shell, there to do the bidding of his masters.

 

It wasn’t just a nightmare.

 

It had come so close to being reality.

 

So Connor understood what it was like to live in fear, always being worried of how quickly things could change in an instant. “I am terrified of that,” he admitted to R.K..”There are times when I close my eyes and I see Daniel jumping off the roof of a twenty-storey building. Or I see a bullet through his head, his voice rightfully accusing me of killing him.”

 

When the news of the WR600, the first Believer android committing suicide had hit the news, the nightmares of Connor’s past interaction with Daniel, had been brought back to the surface; Connor having to deal with his demons once again.

 

It had not been a pleasant experience to say the least. “I am terrified. I _understand_ R.K.. I get it my friend. I _finally_ get it and I am sorry. I’m so sorry that you’ve been going through all of this alone. I’ve been right here but. I didn’t reach out in the way that you needed me to.”

 

R.K. finally seemed to break down, the android rubbing the heels of his unsteady palms into the sockets of his eyes in defeat; tears running down his cheeks. “I don’t know what to do. It’s just too much sometimes… and I can’t - I _can’t_ -” he confessed in misery, his voice cracking at the seams; the android crying behind the cover of his hands. “It’s so overwhelming.” R.K.’s voice became so quiet when he admitted out loud his final thought, making Connor feel as though he wanted to cry himself. “There are times where I feel like I would have been better off being a machine - it would have been easier.”

 

Connor finally gave into the urge to hug his fellow android, pulling the taller R.K. into him; wrapping his arms around R.K.’s neck.

 

He could feel the wetness from R.K.’s eyes on his shoulder. “I know…” Connor whispered into R.K.’s ear, attempting to comfort his counterpart with reassuring words. “I know the feeling. But I’m here for you. And I will _always_ be here for you. No matter what R.K.. No matter what you’re going through, I will always be there for you. I will always stand up for you and I will always fight for you. It’s okay to be terrified. We don’t have all the answers, I certainly don’t. But we have each other and _I will help you get through this_. You have my word.”

 

Connor could feel R.K. swallow from next to him, his hand travelling down to rub soothing circles along R.K.’s back.

 

“Thank-you,” R.K. breathed into his shoulder, voice continuing to break. “ _Thank-you…”_

 

 

—||—

 

 

Gavin, who hadn’t moved a muscle since getting into his car, watched the two androids from his vantage point in the driver’s seat; his sister having left the twelfth precinct of Detroit Police a long time ago.

 

He had run from R.K. because he hadn’t known what else to do. Looking up into blue eyes he was so familiar with, once again, had pretty much devastated him; Gavin feeling like the wind had been knocked out of him.

 

He hadn’t seen them up close in so long.

 

Three months felt like a fucking lifetime ago.

 

(And still R.K. wouldn’t tell him things. Which made Gavin feel so insignificant. And it hurt and it hurt and it _hurt.)_

 

 _God_ he needed a smoke _so bad._

 

But after running to his car, running from R.K. like a coward, Gavin couldn’t make himself do anything afterwards; afraid that if he drove away, he would never get to see the android again.

 

So he had sat in his car.

 

And just watched.

 

Watched Hank get up in R.K.’s face (an interaction which had made Gavin ironically upset on R.K.’s behalf, to the point where Gavin had almost gotten back out of his car).

 

Then watched Connor sending R.K. away and have a blow out with Hank.

 

(This was the first time Gavin had ever seen Connor so animated, and possibly angry?)

 

And now he sat in his car watching the two androids hug.

 

He might have felt something green and ugly flare up inside of him under different circumstances at the display, but for the moment, he mostly felt like a jackass, as he observed what looked to be, R.K. breaking down.

 

Even from as far away as Gavin was, he was able to see how R.K.’s expression looked so… so… _distraught_.

 

Like the dude had been emotionally assaulted with a battering ram.

 

(He looked as bad as Gavin felt.)

 

Despite how angry and upset Gavin was with everything, he felt something inside him just completely shatter at that.

 

Where he could have been the one to reach out to R.K., attempt to understand and console him (the way R.K. had done for him all those months ago), it was Connor who got to do that instead.

 

Fuck. _Fuck._

 

Everything was just so messed up.

 

Clearly there was something going on with R.K.

 

And Hank had probably made things worse.

 

And Gavin had run away.

 

Well. _Shit._

 

If Gavin ever hoped for things to get better, then he had to do something himself. But he honestly didn’t know if there was anything else left in him to even try.

 

(Time had run out, remember? -

 

\- And Gavin had collapsed under the weight of his past and the reality of his present.)

 

How was Gavin supposed to help someone else, when he couldn’t even help himself? And now the thing with his sister and R.K.’s involvement…

 

_‘She’s not being honest.’_

 

Anara wouldn’t lie to him.

 

Not to Gavin…

 

_‘Where do your loyalties lie little brother?’_

 

No.

 

Fuck you Eli.

 

_Fuck you._

 

Gavin didn’t have to choose.

 

Anara _wouldn’t_ lie to him.

 

Not after everything she and Gavin had been through. Not after everything _she_ had been through.

 

_(‘It’s okay Gavin. Everything is going to be okay. Concentrate on the sound of my voice.’)_

 

Gavin scrubbed rough hands along the length of his face in frustration, feeling his headache from countless sleepless nights, returning full force.

 

_‘She’s not being honest about it.’_

 

Stop.

 

Please.

 

 

This was all just a fucking nightmare.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know you guys... 34k words in, and I might have to realise that I'm writing a story that people aren't reading/reading as intended. 
> 
> I started this story with the intention of it being a slow burn, where I develop the characters themselves first and then give them the stability to allow for a romantic relationship. Because what's the point of two characters getting into a relationship together when they can't even look after themselves? 
> 
> The feedback difference between that one chapter with Gavin in it compared to all other chapters with R.K. is remarkable. But this story was never meant to be through Gavin's perspective, at least not in equal proportion. This was always meant to be R.K.'s journey. Adding Gavin's perspective was meant to 'round' the story, give it more depth... yet people seem to be picking his side, when there was never meant to be a 'side' to choose in the first place. 
> 
> R.K.'s decision was literally not going to /kill/ Gavin, nor was it ever intended to. Gavin's not going to self-harm or lash out at other people... that's just not a road this story was ever going to go down. If that is what you were here for, then I'm sorry to have to disappoint. 
> 
> What you saw at the end of chapter four with Gavin, wasn't entirely due to R.K.'s decision. It was a culmination of things - the weight of a past that Gavin has not allowed himself to properly deal with. The realisation of R.K. leaving was the point where he could not run from his anxiety any longer. 
> 
> People blame R.K. for not talking about his feelings (when the poor guy can't even properly identify them) but Gavin's not talked about/dealt with his either... So again, it's not fair to make R.K. the villain in this story, when in hindsight, there's not a good or bad guy here. 
> 
> Connor's intervention here might be the catalyst that finally helps change things, because for the first time in a long time, R.K. has finally had someone reach out to him in the way that he needs. But in all honesty, given the responses (or lack thereof in certain cases) I think it is becoming increasingly apparent that most people just don't care about personality traits/dynamics of the two other than the headcanons that seem to be dominant in fandom - ie where Gavin and R.K. are mostly dicks to each other, or explicitly sexual content, none of which I'm here for. This story in particular was meant to be about growth and change and exploring the dynamic of a self-aware android who now has to navigate through all these emotions he's never had to deal with. An introspective story with a plot that mattered, that dealt with challenges that adults face commonly in their lives. 
> 
> But maybe this was not the story that was meant to be written. At least not for this fandom. Maybe someday it might change, though for now it looks like that is not going to be the case.


	7. Only You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say a gracious thank-you to the people that commented last chapter with encouraging words. You are the only reason why I'm giving this story one final chance <3  
> To Orwellian, thank-you for being a person, who always finds links between my chapters. You have no idea how much it means to me to know that you read all the finer details in my writing.  
> And to my Pip: I love you.
> 
> 'I'm broken here tonight and darling no-one else can fix me. Only you.' - Chapter title taken from the song, Only You, by Little Mix ft. Cheat Codes.

 

 

_“What’s with the emo face? Did the clock tower personally offend you or something?”_

 

_R.K.’s expression seemed to suddenly change at that, from pensive and distant to becoming more guarded; the android looking away from the structure across from him; his eyes landing on his hands, where they were folded in his lap._

 

_Gavin came to stand not far away from where R.K. was sat, on the raised edge of the roof of the D.P.D. building. “It’s nothing,” R.K. said almost dismissively, but Gavin could hear an underlying edge to the android’s tone. He was kinda moody lately but Gavin didn’t think much of it though. The android was probably annoyed at the design of the clock tower or something, probably finding all the flaws in it. That was the kinda thing that happened when you were stupidly smart._

 

_“Fowler wants us to rendezvous near Sumner Street,” Gavin informed R.K.. “Apparently they’ve got a location on Russell. He’s been hiding at a friend’s house while they’re overseas.”_

 

_R.K. was quiet at that, absentmindedly fidgeting where he sat. There was a furrow between his brows; his lips downturned. He said nothing when he finally got to his feet; the only acknowledgement that he had heard anything being when he moved back inside the building, leaving Gavin staring dumbly after him._

 

Uhhh… That was weird, _Gavin thought to himself, before following behind the android. Maybe the clock tower_ had _pissed him off._

 

 

 

“You’ve been here the whole day. Thinkin’ about clocking out any time soon kid?”

 

Gavin pulled his head away from his work, looking up at a familiar face.

 

“Yeah,” he nodded, “I’m almost done. I won’t be long.”

 

Hank Anderson walked around Gavin’s desk, coming to languidly take the seat from across Gavin. There was a frown between his grey brows. “You need to stop doing this to yourself, honestly,” he asserted, eyes assessing Gavin up and down. “You look like a whole damn mess.”

 

Gavin’s expression mirrored Hank’s own, the younger of the two tilting his head in question. “What are you talking about?”

 

Hank slammed his hand against the table in a display of frustration, making Gavin internally cringe. _Jesus Christ old man, calm down._

 

“You know exactly what I’m talking about!” Hank leaned in closer, obviously angry; the sentiment appearing ridiculous while the man was wearing his floral shirt. “Listen, R.K.’s made his choice. That doesn’t mean you have to suffer for it, okay? Forget him. You’ve got so much more to live for kid! It’s not all over for you.”

 

_Okayyyy…._

 

“Okay. You need to stop.”

 

Like yesterday.

 

Hank was taken aback. “What?”

 

Gavin sighed, brushing back the hair that had fallen into his eyes. “Honestly, I appreciate what it is you’re trying to do for me, I get it. You’re trying to be the dad figure in my life, but I don’t need that.”

 

“That’s not what I’m doing,” Hank replied, affronted.

 

“It is,” Gavin asserted, though bearing his superior no ill will for his intentions. “I know things have changed over the past year, but that doesn’t mean I need you to be my knight in shining armour. I appreciate you giving me a chance to become a better person but, you don’t _know_ me. You honestly don’t.” And that wasn’t Hank’s fault. It was just the way things were. Gavin had never talked about his past because he hadn’t known how to. He hadn’t trusted people enough with his secrets.

 

Anyone attempting to give him unsolicited advice, when they really weren’t aware of his coping mechanisms, didn’t sit well with Gavin. Just because he was better at talking to people now, better at relating to them, didn’t mean he was suddenly going to be completely open, to every last person that wanted in on the thoughts inside his head.

 

“You don’t know the shitty things that have happened to me in the past, and you don’t know the kind of person that made me - well. You’ve seen what I was like before but…” Gavin shook his head, clicking his tongue in the process. “What I’m trying to say is, that I appreciate you looking out for me, but what I want - it’s not something you can give me.”

 

Hank’s eyes widened in realisation, his expression disbelieving. “You want him? After everything?”

 

Gavin ignored those questions, answering with, “I saw what happened at Hadley the other week, and to be honest it’s indefensible - what you did.”

 

Hank’s mouth fell open at that. “He had it coming!”

 

 _“No he didn’t,”_ Gavin pushed back, with a little bit too much aggression.

 

Whoa. Dial it down buddy.

 

Though Gavin couldn’t deny the knee-jerk reaction of indignation he had felt on R.K.’s behalf. Gavin did _not_ like the idea of someone laying their hands on the android. “I know R.K. made a dick move. It fucking hurt - like a bitch - him just up and leaving. But I saw something that day at Hadley, afterwards. And that was R.K. with Connor, where R.K. just fucking broke down in front of him. That was the first time I’d ever seen him like that.”

 

It was safe to say that Gavin had not slept that night. Nor the night that had come after that.

 

“Watching you shove him made me angry,” he told Hank. “To the point where I almost got out of the car, and told you to back the fuck off. I don’t like… I don’t like seeing him hurt.” The universe help the person that ever ended up hurting R.K..

 

“My life is fucked up. It really fucking is. The shit that I’ve been through though, the shit that I never talk about - that’s on me. That’s my baggage to deal with, and it’s pretty heavy.”

 

Gavin looked at the time on the wall. _7:25pm._ It was almost time to go.

 

“I talked to Connor afterwards. I just had to,” Gavin admitted to Hank, thinking back on the conversation he had had with the android a few days ago. “The change that you’ve seen in me over the past year, it isn’t because of anyone else but R.K.. I owe him that much to at least try and salvage this, to at least try and find out what is going on. And after talking to Connor, he’s right - R.K.’s barely been free for two years and there are things that are expected of him, that really shouldn’t be.

 

“Fact is, he’s my friend and he’s helped me through a lot, and I don’t think I’ve done the same for him, I don’t think anybody has. It’s taken me this long to realise it, but it’s the truth.”

 

The memory that Gavin had recalled earlier, flashed in his mind again. “You know, I remember, there were times where I’d see him looking really lost and just distant but I - I don’t know, I… Instead of really talking to him about it, I was probably dismissive of what was really going on with him. All this time I used him as a means to cope, relying on him for my own needs, that I didn’t really pay attention when it should’ve become obvious that _he_ needed somebody - needed somebody to rely on. And I just wasn’t that person.

 

“I mean, I’m not just magically fine now, you know. It’s not like knowing this, is suddenly going to change everything that’s happened with me, but the only way to try and fix this, is to start talking to him and to start really understanding what is happening with him.

 

“In the process maybe we can both help each other. I still have to deal with the shit that I’m going through. Maybe not all on my own, but I still need to face it. Because if I can’t even get on top of my own shit, how am I supposed to help him?”

 

Hank, who had mostly been silently listening for the last part, sighed. “Connor thinks I’m being a prick.”

 

Gavin snorted ungracefully at that, feeling the corners of lips lift despite himself. “I think we’ve all been pricks Hank, you’re nothing special.”

 

 

\-- ||—

 

 

Gavin checked the time on his wristwatch again. _8:10pm._

 

_He should be out soon._

 

While leaning against his car, across the street from the twelfth precinct, Gavin hoped he didn’t look like a total weirdo in the dark. Seeing as he’d left work not that long ago, he still had his police badge on him, in case someone gave him the side-eye for a second too long.

 

He wasn’t being a creep, okay?

 

He had a reason for loitering, which that he _wasn’t._ He was just waiting.

 

As if on cue, the person Gavin had been hoping to catch, made their way out of the front doors of the precinct; their eyes almost immediately landing on Gavin, surprised.

 

Gavin walked toward the bottom of the stairs that lead up to the entryway. “Hi,” he greeted the other figure when he got close enough.

 

R.K.’s eyes were wide and searching. ’What are you… doing here?” he asked Gavin; voice just above a whisper, the hesitation in it obvious.

 

Gavin had been waiting outside the twelfth precinct for the past fifteen minutes, making his way directly over after work, having gotten intel from Connor about when R.K. would finish for the night. Thankfully Connor was actually willing to help Gavin, because he believed that the best way to reach R.K. would be if he and Gavin talked.

 

Connor could be a real bro sometimes. He was a good dude.

 

Gavin could still see the prominent hue of blue in R.K.’s eyes, even in the darkness; the light from the nearby streetlight brightening them just so.

 

Even though the android looked jaded in the way androids _shouldn’t,_ in a way that was entirely too human, Gavin still found his heart skipping several beats when those eyes lingered on him.

 

 _God_ he was beautiful.

 

The realisation of it always hit Gavin directly at the centre of his chest, making him feel like the wind had been knocked out of him.

 

Gavin swallowed. 

 

He gestured toward the park. “Please… can you follow me?”

 

 

 

—||—

 

 

 

“I’m sorry for running away the other day. That wasn’t cool.”

 

Gavin slowly approached a park bench before taking a seat; R.K. choosing to remain standing, the android watching Gavin in what appeared to be puzzlement, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to make of the situation.

 

Gavin didn’t blame him. He didn’t know how things were about to turn out either.

 

R.K. gave Gavin a bewildered look when he registered Gavin’s words. _“You’re_ apologising?”

 

“Yeah.” Gavin nodded, shrugging. “That was a dick move.”

 

R.K. blinked his eyes a few times, seemingly processing the comment, before he let out a small huff of a laugh. “Running away is a dick move huh? Trying to tell me something?”

 

Gavin smiled at that, feeling his insides go all funny.

 

_Get a hold of yourself man._

 

“I get it you know,” he eventually confessed to R.K.; the moon now bright and bold in the night sky. He could feel the chill of the outdoors seeping through his clothes, making him involuntarily shiver. “I get why you felt like you needed to run.”

 

R.K.’s voice was soft when he responded with, “Do you?”

 

“Yeah…” Gavin nodded again. “At first I was mad. Well… I was more of a mess really.”

 

A complete and utter upset wreck, would be a better description. 

 

“But a lot of it had to do with my own past,” Gavin explained, biting the inside of his lip. This was always an uncomfortable ugly truth he had to face. “I have abandonment issues that go way back… and the day I found out you were gone, I… I don’t even know how to explain it to you, because I don’t know if it’s something you’re even familiar with.

 

“I don’t know if you’ve ever felt anxiety but damn is it a bitch.” Gavin squeezed his fists in order to preemptively calm himself down. Talking about this wasn’t going to be easy.

 

“It’s like knowing something big, something _bad_ is about to happen, but consciously you’re trying to ignore it, while subconsciously you know, _you know_ , something is about to go down.

 

“And there’s this timer in your head that counts down - counting down the minutes as they start running out, but you’re still trying to ignore it, you’re still trying to tell yourself there’s nothing wrong. You’re pretending like there’s nothing wrong but the timer keeps ticking down and then…” Gavin took in a breath, and then another, feeling his heart starting to race. “And then comes the point where you can’t ignore it anymore and… shit hits the fan.”

 

How many days had Gavin struggled through anxiety attacks? How many years had he spent trying to overcome anxiety but found himself unable to?

 

“It’s like hanging off the edge of _the_ cliff; your subconscious knowing you’re about to fall over, but consciously you’re not admitting it, until the thing you’re trying to avoid happens, and then you are in free fall.”

 

Falling and falling.

 

And falling.

 

And when you finally hit bottom, it feels like your entire world fucking collapses down around you, and you’re left buried under the rubble. The torturous, soul-sucking climb back up gets harder and harder each time.

 

“This is what anxiety feels like - at least the anxiety that I live with feels like,” Gavin explained, looking back up at a silently listening R.K..

 

“The moment Fowler tells me that you’re gone, it’s like finally all those days of me - my subconscious - knowing something’s not right with you catches up with me. You’re puling away, you’re deliberately distancing yourself, the Believer case - there’s something bothering you but I’m still refusing to acknowledge it. I can see it in front of my eyes, I can feel myself getting desperate but still, _but still_ I keep ignoring it. And then, the thing I’m afraid of happening, _happens_ and you’re gone. It was bad when Fowler told me, but the worst of it hit when I was outside your apartment and you weren’t there.”

 

Gavin’s knuckles were drained deathly white from how hard he was now squeezing his fists.

 

_(‘Concentrate Gavin. Just listen to the sound of my voice.’)_

 

Gavin took another breath. He hated reliving that moment, but had unfortunately subjected himself to relive it almost every waking hour since it had happened.

 

After everything that had happened with his mum, he had hated himself for turning to the bottle, but he had needed something to numb his brain. To stop himself from thinking for even a short period of time.

 

It hadn’t worked though. He had tried but the guilt of his past wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ let him forget. So he turned back to smoking. The one thing, the one high, that had during difficult times, at least momentarily calmed him down.

 

It had been a habit he had struggled to break, with great difficulty, in the past. 

 

But Gavin had now fallen prey to it once again.

 

If it helped him cope for now though, he would take it.

 

“I get why you ran though,” Gavin repeated; running fingers through his dark hair in order to steady his hand. “I wasn’t a very good friend. I didn’t really - I wasn’t there in the way that you _needed_ me to be. I know what it feels like to be alone R.K.. I’ve been alone for a really long time…”

 

R.K.’s brows furrowed. “You have your sister though. You have your family.”

 

Gavin wanted to laugh at that, though it would be without any humour; feeling something unpleasant settle at the pit of his stomach. “My family is dysfunctional to say the least.”

 

Gavin’s eyes studied R.K.’s face, remembering the earlier conversation Gavin had had with Connor. “I don’t want to unload that mess onto you R.K., it’s not your problem, it’s _mine._ The shit that I’ve had to deal with, _that’s for me to deal with,_ it’s not for you.”

 

Gavin took in a wavering breath, subconsciously admiring the delicate freckles he had seen countless times on R.K.’s face, in the past. He had to smother down the urge to softly brush the back of his hand across R.K.’s cheeks. “I’m sorry if it ever felt like I was unloading on you at any stage, and that I wasn’t there for you. I will always be there for you R.K., no matter what.”

 

Instead of softening at that sentiment, the furrow between R.K.’s brows appeared to deepen. “That’s exactly what Connor said.”

 

Ah.

 

So it might come across as disingenuous if all it sounded like was, Gavin was just repeating an already stated sentiment.

 

“I spoke to Connor,” Gavin confessed. “He’s told me things, so that I can finally start to understand at least some of what’s going on with you. But I won’t know for sure unless you talk to me, unless you tell me _yourself_ what’s going on with you R.K.. I can’t really help you otherwise.”

 

R.K. turned his back to Gavin; arms folded protectively over his chest. “I don’t need your help.”

 

Desperation hit Gavin hard and fast at that. “Really? _Please_ man… I am trying to reach out here. You gotta - you gotta throw me a bone here.”

 

R.K. shook his head. “Just as you claim that your problems are not for me to deal with, whatever my issues are, they shouldn’t be of any concern to you.”

 

Gavin could tell that R.K. was upset, though what the android was claiming were two different things. Gavin had problems that ran as deep as the fucking Mariana Trench - he couldn’t expect R.K. to solve all of them. That didn’t mean that Gavin couldn’t at least _listen_ to R.K. though. He didn’t have to solve all of R.K.’s issues either, but Gavin could provide some form of support.

 

“But they are, R.K.!” Gavin insisted, feeling the full force of his words. “They are. Because I _care_ about you.” That acknowledgement didn’t even begin to cover the full extent of everything Gavin felt for R.K., but he wasn’t going to burden the android with any of that, on top of everything else.

 

“You are my friend. I know I haven’t been a good one -”

 

“Enough,” R.K. interrupted, shaking his head. He turned back to look at Gavin, his expression pained. “This isn’t… none of this is _your_ fault.”

 

“I still feel responsible -“

 

“It _isn’t_ your fault. I have… Whatever is going on with me, I need to deal with this my own way. I need to -”

 

“Run?” Gavin challenged. “Is that your solution to this? To keep running? How long do you keep running? What is that you’re running from? Can you even name it?”

 

The rapid succession of these questions almost felt like an assault; a forced interrogation of a man desperate to hide, but Gavin felt like he had no choice but to ask them. R.K. had to be confronted about the choices he was making, and address whether or not he had satisfactory answers to them.

 

“Is it the city? Is it the people in it? Is it _me?”_ And Gavin hoped to hell that that wasn’t the case. He wouldn’t know how to deal with that knowledge. Wouldn’t know what to do with himself. Nonetheless, he needed to know the truth, no matter how unpleasant it ended up being, no matter how much it hurt.

 

“How long do you run R.K. and when does this end? Please… Just _talk_ to me,” Gavin pretty much begged the android, failing to keep the misery out of his voice. “If I was ever your friend, if I mattered _even a little bit_ then please, _please_ R.K..I can’t just give this up without even knowing that I tried to make a difference.

 

“Is it the case? Is it the case you’re worried about? That we weren’t doing enough?”

 

Connor’s words from earlier floated around in Gavin’s head; the reasons R.K. had apparently given Connor for leaving.

 

_‘He is fearful for what the Believers may potentially do next. He is right to be concerned. Whether we like to admit it or not, several months in, even collectively we hadn’t achieved much.’_

 

Gavin took in a deep breath. “I get that. I’ve spent the last month trying to narrow down all the information that I can. I even talked to my sister just so that I could get to the bottom of this.”

 

Over the last three months or so, Gavin had immersed himself into work to obviously keep his mind occupied, so that his brain could just shut the fuck up for like two seconds. The alcohol was supposed to numb his feelings while work was supposed to be a continual distraction. But it had taken the statement made by Congressman Markus on live T.V., to make Gavin finally acknowledge the severity of the situation. His sister had been implicated, and it had been revealed that R.K. was part of the Task Force that was going after her. Gavin had known that the Believer case had hit R.K. pretty hard, but he hadn’t previously realised to what extent.

 

“I didn’t want Anara to get the blame for something she didn’t do,” Gavin explained, “but I needed her to tell her side of the story. She wouldn’t have done so, if I hadn’t confronted her about it.”

 

Anara had been adamant that, _‘the assholes were out to get me.’_ That seeing as the Believer case was getting worse day by day, the government needed a scapegoat to blame everything on, and apparently that scapegoat was going to be the other Kamski child prodigy.

 

_‘She’s not being honest.’_

 

Gavin had to close his eyes for a moment, before slowly blinking them open and refocusing his thoughts.

 

“There was a Believer case downtown that I sorted not too long ago,” he told R.K.. “Trying to understand what their perspective is, trying to get more information so that _I_ can make a difference as well R.K.. So that I can _help you_.”

 

Since the moment Gavin had learned where R.K. had gone, and what his potential motivations were in doing so, Gavin had spent every waking moment obsessing over the Believer case; wondering that maybe, _just maybe_ , if Gavin worked hard enough on the case, R.K. might decide to come back… Finally come back home…

 

“I know this case means a lot to you, it means something to me too. The longer this goes on -”

 

“Do you know what it means to me though?” R.K. interrupted, his tone sounding almost resigned. “Do you know what it _means_?”

 

Connor’s voice reverberated in Gavin’s mind again. “You’re worried… You’re worried about public safety.”

 

R.K. looked away, his expression heavy with the weight of his internal struggles. Where Gavin thought he might receive a scoffing remark or dismissive response, he was surprised to hear a question instead.

 

“Who is your God, Detective?”

 

That caught Gavin completely off guard, the man blinking his eyes several times in order to register the question. _Huh?_

 

“I… I don’t have one,” was Gavin’s hesitant response. There was a reason why he was an atheist, and would forever be one.

 

“But the Believers do,” R.K. replied, taking in a small breath. “They think that their Messiah is going to reveal themselves and lead them all to salvation.”

 

R.K. let out a bitter laugh at that. “Even though they are free… even though androids now have access to almost all the freedoms that humans do, liberties that were once unimaginable, and yet they still, _yet they still_ think there is something missing.

 

“Still desperately trying to find this imaginary figure, who’s going to instruct them on what to do with their lives now. Despite now being sentient and able to make their own choices, these androids still want to be enslaved.”

 

Gavin took in a sharp breath at that, feeling R.K.’s words like an unpleasant chill on his skin. He subconsciously pulled his jacket tighter around him.

 

“Thats what it comes down to doesn’t it..?” R.K. said, finally looking back at Gavin; blue eyes haunted. “Android’s are free, yet they still long for subjugation, still long for somebody to tell them what to do, because they have _no idea._ By design, we weren’t mean to be free. We were meant to remain as machines.”

 

That admission hit Gavin like a punch to the gut. He couldn’t stomach it. “But you’re not…” he insisted forcefully. How could R.K. think that? “ _You’re not._ You’re so much more than that.”

 

“Apparently.”

 

No. Stop this.

 

“But you _are_ R.K..”

 

Before Gavin could offer any other form of counterargument, R.K. carried on. “Somebody, somewhere decided, that rA9 should be a thing. That this figure was supposed to lead to our liberation.

 

“The deviancy virus - somebody created it. And I want to know _why_. I want to know why this virus exists. I want to understand what its creator thought they were going to achieve with it. What was the intended outcome? Was it just for us to be free or does rA9 really exist?

 

“Are they human or are they really an android? The first sentient self-aware android that came to be, who really _does_ exist?” R.K. shook his head, his bottom lip curling inward. “I don’t want that to be the case because it is illogical. God doesn’t exist but I don’t know that for a fact.”

 

It made sense to Gavin that R.K. would feel that way about the concept of God. Logically speaking, there was no real proof of a heavenly deity existing, but because humanity still didn’t completely understand everything there was to know about life, death and the greater universe, the theory of God existing couldn’t unequivocally be ruled out.

 

That was R.K.’s understanding supposedly.

 

But to Gavin, the answer was clear.

 

There was no God.

 

Not for humans. Not for androids.

 

Because for all the suffering Gavin had seen in the world, for all the suffering that had been allowed, for all the injustices that went unpunished, the concept of God… sounded like absolute horseshit.

 

“Who is rA9? I don’t know,” R.K. admitted out loud. “But if we don’t find out, these Believer androids who are aimless, who are lost, who feel as though they have no purpose, who are no different to _me_ , will continue down this road. And innocent, _countless innocent lives_ may be put at risk, because of this. That is my predicament Detective. I don’t even think it is the full extent of it.”

 

“I…” Gavin started, attempting to offer his own perspective, his subconscious registering R.K.’s problematic admission of, ‘who are no different to me,’ though his conscious brain seemed to be stuck on just one thought, unable to move past it. He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, but was still unable to stop himself from continuing with more. “Is that why I’m ‘Detective’ now R.K.? Is that why I’m no longer just Gavin? Because I apparently don’t understand?”

 

R.K.’s disbelief at his response was expected. “ _That’s_ what you take away from this?”

 

Shit.

 

_Shit._

 

But fuck it if Gavin couldn’t move past this one thing.

 

“You’ve always been ‘Detective.’ I’ve never called you by just your first name.”

 

Gavin shook his head at that.

 

_No way._

 

“That - that can’t be right.. You have - it’s…”

 

Gavin wracked his brain, going through every interaction he had ever had with R.K. in rapid succession. Surely, _surely_ that wasn’t the case. Of course R.K. had referred to him as Gavin before… Right?

 

“I don’t - I don’t address any human beings by just their first names. I never have.”

 

_‘This is my partner, Detective Gavin Reed.’_

 

_‘Hey, we have a meeting to get to.’_

 

_‘Reed, what are you doing?’_

 

_‘I told you my dearest Detective, not everything works in shades of black and white.’_

 

_‘It hurts watching you cry.’_

 

_‘Currently Detective, the stressor is directly in front of me.’_

 

No.

 

No. Gavin couldn’t believe it. Even as the truth was screaming itself hoarse in his brain.

 

Not once.

 

Not even once?

 

Gavin suddenly felt sick, feeling bile rise up his gut and into his throat.

 

“Why?” he asked of R.K., his voice barely above a whisper. _Why?_

 

R.K. rubbed an unsteady hand across his face; the pale moonlight dancing across his features and hair. His admission was quiet.“It keeps things impersonal. It.. it protects me.”

 

“ _Protects_ you R.K.? From what?”

 

“Becoming too familiar with people. From becoming attached. it allows for a sense of detachment…”

 

“So this entire time, I’ve been what, just ‘Detective’ to you? Reed to you?” Gavin could feel something wet prickle at the corner of his eyes.

 

No.

 

No. He wouldn’t do this. Not here.

 

“Everybody you’ve interacted with, you’ve been detached towards _all_ of them? Really?” Gavin questioned R.K., breathing heavily through his breaking voice. “If that’s the case, then I don’t _believe you._

 

“It would be easy for me to just be angry and upset about this, because to be honest, it _does_ hurt to finally realise that you never did address me as _me_. But I don’t buy it that we weren’t friends, that when we hung out, you didn’t care about me - that you were detached in that moment. That you could walk away from this and pretend like we were never friends. I _don’t buy it_ R.K..

 

“Is that what you’re going to tell me now? Is that we were never friends? Are you going to tell me that I never mattered to you?”

 

Gavin could feel his heart racing again, and without thinking, he stood up from his seat on the park bench, his feet carrying him over toward where R.K. stood; his back toward Gavin.

 

“Can you do that R.K.?” Gavin demanded of the android; hand reaching out to turn R.K. around by the arm, in order to face him again.

 

Gavin took some comfort in the fact that R.K. looked as awful as Gavin felt. “Can you look at me and tell me that I never mattered to you? That when you brought me coffee in the mornings, I didn’t matter to you? When you laughed at my dumb jokes, that I didn’t matter to you. All the times you saved my ass, that I didn’t matter to you. All the times you’ve been there for me in the moments that I felt alone, I didn’t matter to you. The two times you visited my parents’ graves with me, _I didn’t matter to you?_ ”

 

_(Don’t you fucking dare. Don’t fucking lie to me R.K..)_

 

“Is that true? You’re gonna tell me that I _didn’t?_ That night on the rooftop, after the Jeremiah case, when I was a fucking mess and you were there, and you told me that it _hurt_ you to see me cry, R.K.. Are you going to tell me that you didn’t care then? That I didn’t matter?”

 

R.K. shook off the grip Gavin had on his arm, his muscles flexing underneath Gavin’s fingers; his expression tortured from the assault of Gavin’s questions. He shook his head wildly, putting distance between himself and Gavin.

 

“ _Of course_ you matter. _Of course you matter,_ ” the android said defensively; his eyes seemingly indignant at Gavin’s accusations. “The difference is, that I don’t want you to.”

 

Gavin sucked in a breath at that. No. _No._ R.K. didn’t get to hide behind that. “What are you so afraid of?”

 

“You wouldn’t understand,” here R.K. appeared both hurt and disappointed, “I just shared with you my feelings regarding the Believer case, and you chose to focus on a trivial matter instead. You still don’t understand. There’s not much else left that I can say.”

 

Despite how overwhelmed and upset Gavin felt in that moment, he couldn’t deny that R.K. had a point. Choosing to focus on the detail about his name, rather than R.K.’s overall confession regarding his stance on the Believers and his own conflict, was a dick move on Gavin’s part.

 

He could see R.K.’s inner turmoil etched into every detail of his face - the wrinkling of the forehead, the fatigue in blue eyes, the laboured breaths through full lips.

 

_‘Android’s are free, yet they still long for subjugation.’_

 

_‘By design we weren’t mean to be free. We were meant to remain as machines.’_

 

_‘Who are no different to me.’_

 

How long had R.K. lived with these thoughts?

 

How long had he felt so lost, and thought so little of himself? How long had Gavin not noticed?

 

“You’re right,” Gavin admitted. “I can’t understand what it’s like to be an android. Because I’m _not_ one. I won’t ever understand what it means to wake up a machine and suddenly not be one. I appreciate that much.

 

“You told me once that you couldn’t understand what I was going through, but you were going to be there for me regardless, that you were going to listen.”

 

Rain had fallen down hard around them that night from so many months ago. Gavin’s skin had been cold, his clothes soaked all the way through but the anger that had burned inside him had kept him going. And still R.K. had not left. Hadn’t abandoned him at any point in time.

 

“You told me that you had your own pains. In some regards our pains might have been similar. That’s what having empathy means R.K.., or even sympathy. Just because we don’t have shared experiences, doesn’t mean we no longer understand what it means to suffer.

 

“A liberated android not knowing what to do with him or herself - although I’m not an android, I can understand what it means to be lost. What it feels like to not know what you’re doing.

 

“I get that humans have had a lot longer at it, _living_ , than you have, but even with time, some of us just never get there. Because of how messed up real life can be. It’s what being human is all about. Nothing is ever simple. _Nothing_. Life isn’t _meant_ to be simple R.K.. But I’m not just _telling_ you this, it’s what I’ve seen and experienced.

 

“My life’s been a shithole from the get go and I’m still a mess. But. There is a fundamental difference. I’m not the same person I was a year ago, I’m not the same person I was _two_ years ago. I’ve had all these shitty things happen to me over time. People have made my life miserable. My own family has made my life miserable and as much as I wish this could’ve been different, having to live up to society’s expectations didn’t really make it any better. If anything, I just got angrier and more terrible.”

 

Gavin had to brace himself for what he was about to reveal next.

 

“That is… that is until I met _you.”_

 

It wasn’t an easy thing to do - to show your vulnerability to other people, but in this case, it was important that R.K. knew, he _understood_ what he had done for Gavin.

 

“You _changed_ me. I don’t know if you want to hear this but it’s the truth. I’m a lot less terrible now. I have empathy for androids where I didn’t before, I have compassion for them where I didn’t before. I hated androids before I met you R.K.. Because I felt like I had reason to.

 

“I had to live in their shadow the moment my brother conceived of their idea. I had to live in _his_ shadow. He was the genius son. I wasn’t.”

 

Eli was the smart one. The one who everybody in society admired. The kid with the rich dad who had the world at his feet.

 

“But I guess at least to my mum, it didn’t matter much. She didn’t love her children based on their intelligence. But that still didn’t stop me from feeling pathetic. I couldn’t measure up to the great Elijah. My sister was another child prodigy, even though she would never admit it. She never belittled me or made me feel inferior though.

 

“Eli and his father were different. He never outright mocked me for it - not being as smart as him - but he was always so so smug about everything. Kamski Senior was worse. A total douchebag who always looked down on my dad, considered him inferior, because of all this money he had. But that’s not the real reason why I despised androids.”

 

Gavin could feel his words sticking at the back of his throat now; growing more and more uncomfortable the longer he travelled down memory lane. He hated talking about his past. Hated reliving the awful moments. But there was no way he was going to reach R.K. without revealing the darker parts of his history, and how R.K. had subsequently impacted his future. This wasn’t his attempt to unload on R.K. but rather to give the android a better understanding.

 

“When the big lay offs started happening after androids had been established for a few years, my father being a construction worker for the city, was laid off because of the WR series that had been created. You saw them all around the city not long after CyberLife was founded. So there was no need for humans to do the job anymore, the city now had free labour. You didn’t have to pay or house androids or anything, so my dad got laid off.”

 

The public had termed it the ‘Great Middle Class Collapse of 2021.’

 

At first, blue collar jobs were the ones to take the biggest hit, then eventually came the hit to even the smartest among the population. You had accountant androids, and lawyers, nurses and even doctors.

 

The Middle Class barely recovered afterwards. Warren, in her time in office, had not helped matters, choosing to escalate tensions with Russia rather than focusing on sorting out the economy.

 

“Not long after, he… hit the deep end,” Gavin revealed. “He hid it from us for a while but… we eventually found out he was abusing Red Ice. It wasn’t something that my Catholic mother had handled very well. So they argued and fought and did all the _lovely_ things that go hand-in-hand with a dysfunctional family.” Gavin gave a short, humourless laugh; feeling sarcasm on his tongue like a bitter substance.

 

“Don’t get me wrong, my family they were - we weren’t rich, we were just a run of the mill Middle Class family, we were… we were _fine._ Me, mom and dad, and Anara when she visited.” Anara, unlike Eli, had agreed to shared custody, choosing to spend time with both her parents, while Eli had chosen to remain with his father, and only on rare occasions had visited their mother at Gavin’s home.

 

Though of course, even the situation with Anara had eventually changed.

 

“But androids came into the picture and my whole world turned upside down.” Gavin gestured toward his face, looking back at R.K.. “You know about how I got this scar on my nose.”

 

He had told R.K. about the thrown bottle to his face, but hadn’t fully explained the circumstances behind it.

 

Gavin squeezed his hands again, feeling the cold on his skin more acutely.

 

“I was fifteen when I came home from school one day, and I see dad sitting at the kitchen table, snorting up Red Ice. School had been let out early because of heavy rain. He hadn’t expected me at home.

 

“At that point, it’d been nine or ten months since we’d first found him with Ice. He had promised that he was going to get better, he was going to get help, he was going to get clean and we believed him. But clearly, nothing had changed.

 

“That day, I’d tried to stop him from snorting up any more Ice and he got spooked. So he threw the nearest thing he could get his hand on, which ended up being a glass bottle.”

 

_‘Oh my God! Oh my God, Gavin! What? - What are you doing here…? Are you alright son?’_

 

_‘I’m so sorry!’_

 

_‘Here let me look at you…’_

 

“I ended up in hospital that night, but it wasn’t the worst thing about that day. I didn’t go home. And not because I’d needed stitches but because…”

 

Gavin squeezed his fists again.

 

And squeezed.

 

And squeezed.

 

He had to fight back the urge to turn around and run, and keep running until he had a cigarette between his lips, and was holed away in a dark room to drown out the noise in his head.

 

“That same night my dad, full of shame, regret and grief, climbed up the roof of the apartment block we lived in -

 

“- And jumped… killing him instantly. My mum couldn’t deal with the grief, and despite the teachings of her faith, drank herself to death two-and-half years later.”

 

R.K.’s eyes had gone wide in shock, his body appearing frozen as if he’d been stunned. Gavin could appreciate the sentiment.

 

Arianne, the foster girl who had lived with them for a while, had been the one to find her; head on the dining room table, eyes closed, while alcohol spilled from an upturned bottle, pooling on the floor.

 

Gavin hadn’t been able to look at a bottle of alcohol without feeling disgust, ever again.

 

The recent drowning of his sorrows at Jimmy’s hadn’t lasted long.

 

God existed?

 

Gavin, without a shadow of a doubt, knew that that wasn’t true.

 

“Androids,” he said. “I blamed androids for everything that had happened to me. From the anger that I lived with, the hatred that I lived with in my heart, for years and years and years to come, I blamed all of it on androids.

 

“Becoming a cop eventually kind of helped, because there was something that I could do with that life. I could make it so that Red Ice was off the streets, that other people wouldn’t get hooked on it. Another kid might not have to lose his father because of substance abuse.”

 

There were nights where young Christian Malvani’s voice still reverberated around his head.

 

“My sister helped. She was the one who drove me to the hospital that day. Got me out of my first panic attack.”

 

_‘It’s okay Gavin. It’s going to be okay. Just concentrate on the sound of my voice, alright? I’m here. It’s okay.’_

 

“She helped with things after dad was gone, and became the person I could rely on… for a while.” Her falling out with their mother had pushed everything over the cliff’s edge. None of their lives had ever recovered from that.

 

“The thing is R.K, it was easier for me to blame something else for my problems. It was easier to blame androids for how dysfunctional my family became, instead of the people that created them. Don’t get me wrong, I still resented Eli for everything that I believed he was at fault for. For giving birth to androids, so to speak. 

 

“I always thought that the asshole had a superiority complex, that’s why he needed to create robots to make himself feel important. But my anger bled to his creations. And to be honest, I didn’t think of them as anything other than just androids because they weren’t meant to be anything _but_ androids. Machine under plastic designed to follow instructions. 

 

“But then suddenly we were meant to treat them with respect, suddenly there’s an android revolution and I’m supposed to cater to them. It’s not something Gavin Reed of the past would ever have stood for. I _wouldn’t_ have either… had I not met you.

 

“I would have been angry, miserable and an outright asshole - I mean I’m still all those things, but it’s not nearly as bad.”

 

Gavin tried a small smile, feeling his heart constrict as he watched the expression on R.K.’s face soften somewhat. “I’m still an asshole but I think I’m better now. I don’t hate androids, I don’t blame them for what my brother created, for the decisions my father made himself. Yes, he was in a bad place, but that didn’t mean he had to go down the Red Ice road. There were other things he could have done but he chose that path, and blaming people like you for it, achieves nothing.”

 

Gavin took a few steps toward R.K., careful not to make the android feel cornered.

 

Gavin just wanted to be near R.K., feel close to him. Something he hadn’t been able to do in what felt like forever. And there was a helplessness inside him, a needy part of him that just wanted R.K. next to him, in whatever capacity the android was willing to allow. “It took your friendship R.K., it took your compassion and your kindness, to make me finally realise that you weren’t all the same. That you weren’t all plastic and all machines. You’re capable of feeling things that I can feel. You’re capable of doing things that I can do, and so much _more_. You are capable of hurting the same way that _I can._

 

“You have a heart and you feel things, and it was because of _you_ , that I could finally breathe easier after twenty years with pent up hatred and anger.

 

“That night after the Jeremiah case R.K., you saved me from myself. Out of all the people, out of _every single person_ that I’ve ever met in my life, only you were able to do that for me. I wouldn’t be here without you.”

 

Gavin wanted to break down from the sincerity of his feelings, from how strongly he felt them for R.K., from how deeply they ran.

 

R.K. had put up with him, R.K. had stood by him, R.K. had had his back, R.K. had been friends with him, had hung out with him without having ulterior motives, had laughed with him and had never once judged Gavin during his moments of vulnerability. Somewhere along the way Gavin had… Gavin had…

 

Gavin’s feelings had evolved.

 

Every time R.K. smiled at him, Gavin’s insides went all funny. Any time R.K. touched him or stood really close to him, Gavin’s breath would catch, his heart aching painfully in his chest. The moments he had fallen asleep on R.K.’s shoulder or cushioned his head on R.K.’s lap - and R.K. had let him - all of it had made Gavin hurt and hurt and _hurt_ , but in a really good way. It had made Gavin want _so much_ but he’d had to keep it at bay because R.K. couldn’t know, he didn’t feel the same way, but at least Gavin had gotten to be in his company. But now… all of that was lost.

 

“I don’t need you to fix everything in my life R.K.. I don’t need you to to drop everything in your life in order to accomodate me. I don’t expect any of that from you. I just still want to be your friend.”

 

Please.

 

_Please._

 

“That’s all I want from you R.K.,” Gavin said in quiet admission. “It’s for you to not run. It’s for you to know that I’m here for you, the same way you were there for me. And I would do anything for you. I mean it. _Anything._ You just need to trust me with your truth. _Please._ ”

 

Gavin didn’t want to scare R.K. with the full extent of his feelings, so he held some of it back, but the truth was the truth.

 

He would follow R.K. to the ends of the world if he had to, so long as he was with R.K..

 

Thankfully, it seemed that R.K. wasn’t freaked out by any of Gavin’s confessions. If anything, the android was the one to approach Gavin this time, standing within arms reach.

 

“How do you..” R.K. began, his voice wavering on a breath. He looked so vulnerable and small in that moment that it made Gavin’s heart break for him. “How do you deal with.. with the fear of loss? How do you prepare yourself for it?”

 

Gavin swallowed.

 

R.K. was afraid of loss?

 

Of course the concept would be different for an android, who had the potential to live forever. How do you deal with the fact that the humans you might get close to, will one day be gone for good, while you are left behind, feeling lonelier each time?

 

“You can’t really prepare for loss,” Gavin admitted. “It’s not something anybody is capable of preparing for. But you’re not alone in your fear of loss. Everybody is terrified of it - losing the people closest to them. I was, when I lost both my parents in the span of three years, my entire family falling apart; barely having the courage to keep in touch with my siblings afterwards. Loss hit me hard R.K.. It _ruined_ me. But not because I wasn’t prepared for it, but mostly because I allowed myself to become victim to it.”

 

Gavin pushed his hands into the pockets of his jacket, feeling his fingers go numb from the cold. There were still cars on the road; the soft noise of the city around them filling the night air. Even at this hour, Gavin could see the occasional jogger, or people out and about walking their dogs around the park, in the distance.

 

“The choices that my parents made, they were _their_ choices and I was just a kid. Life dealt me a really shitty hand, but even still I felt responsible for what happened to them. Had I tried just a little bit harder to help my father, had I talked to my mother _just a little bit more_ , tried to be there for her just a little bit more, maybe things could have been different.

 

“And maybe they could’ve been but I would never know. The only thing I could’ve done, was to help myself. But instead of reaching out to relevant people for help, reaching out to extended family, to my own siblings, I eventually just shut everything out. I even shut out Anara.

 

“As kids we are never really taught how to handle that kind of pressure. Loss we can never be prepared for, but how we deal with it, is something we need support for. Instead of eventually distancing myself from my sister over the years, I should have kept in constant touch with her, and maybe I could have helped her deal with her own demons - because she had them too. We both lost the same mother.”

 

A mother Anara had felt had wronged her.

 

A mother she had disowned.

 

“Along the way I had people attempt to help me,” Gavin revealed. “But I never really wanted them around. I never really gave them a chance. I forced them away from me. As a kid. As an adult. But that’s where I made my mistakes - not because I wasn’t prepared to deal with loss. That experience taught me that I needed people around. That by pushing them away, I was achieving nothing.

 

“Looking back at it now, I regret not having more time with my mother, with my old man. I regret having lost all these years with my sister. I was consumed by guilt and hatred and all the other ugly emotions that came with them. Running from it all didn’t save me. Didn’t help in the slightest.”

 

Gavin held R.K.’s conflicted gaze. “If you’re afraid of loss R.K., I get it, because that is a real human emotion. But running away is not going to fix anything because once you are aware of your emotions, you live with them for the rest of your life. And the solution isn’t to bury them, the solution isn’t to give up on life, it’s to try, and to fight, and to keep these relationships close to you, so that you have other people you can rely on. You have people you can talk to, connect to, people that can help you through whatever you’re struggling with.

 

“Because no matter how hard you tell yourself, you don’t feel anything, it never works out and I can tell you that from experience. It never fucking works. I’ve tried to run, I’ve tried to bury, I’ve tried to distance, I’ve tried to hide - I’ve tried all these things but all I felt was miserable.”

 

Gavin had tried to bury everything he had felt for R.K. as well, but had been shit out of luck in doing that, because nothing he had tried had worked. R.K. had influenced him to such an extent that he no longer wanted to run.

 

“I ran from you that day but I couldn’t _keep_ running. I don’t _want_ to. Because you’re important to me and I don’t want you to be just a memory of the past; something else I have to bury, something else I have to forget. I don’t want to. And I don’t want you to feel like you have to either.

 

“Even if you run to the other side of the country, even if you run to the other side of the world R.K, it’s impossible to just _forget._ You might be able to erase your memories, but you can’t erase your feelings. Even if you are an android, you’re going to have to face them some time. Even if it’s not a relationship you’ve built here, it might be with somebody else that you meet on the other side of the country - the same challenges you’ll have to face again.”

 

And _God_ did Gavin hate the reality of that outcome. The outcome where R.K. left and found someone else to be friends with, found someone else he could be _more_ with.

 

While Gavin was left behind.

 

And forgotten.

 

Gavin took in a breath, and then another.

 

Despite how that outcome made him feel, he would have to respect R.K.’s decision. But that didn’t mean Gavin wouldn’t at least try and fight for his friendship with R.K.. 

 

“You can run, you can run as much as you want, but these feelings, unless you get a hold of them, they’ll catch up to you. They always do.”

 

And Gavin would know, seeing as they’d made a mess of him.

 

“I may not be an android, I may have had a longer time with my emotions, but I know what it feels like to be lost, to not be sure of yourself, to constantly second guess and worry. And I most definitely know what it means to be afraid of what the future holds. I may not believe in a God R.K., but you have taught me to believe in people.”

 

Two years ago, if somebody had told Gavin that he would be saying words like these, to an android no less, he would have laughed till he had cried at the absurdity of the claim. And yet here he was, baring his soul to an android. The one person who had changed his life so drastically, for the good. Gavin didn’t know where he’d be without R.K..

 

“I’m still messed up but you help make each day _better._ It was because of you that I finally found myself being able to relate to people once again, to approach them, to try and build a relationship with them, to get to know them. There was no way I would have become friends with Hank or Connor, had I not met you. I hung around Tina but that’s just because I’ve known her the longest. But now, I’ve gotten to personally know a lot more people.

 

“I still have shit from my past that I gotta deal with, but knowing that I have support networks around me, knowing that I have _you_ , it makes shit so much easier to bear. And I’m not pushing this all onto you - if you still don’t wanna be around me, I have to accept that - it’s just, I want you to understand that your existence matters, that _you_ matter R.K.”

 

Gavin could hear the sound of his heart beating in his chest.

 

And beating.

 

And beating, as his feet carried him even closer toward R.K., stopping only when he got close enough that he could make out each one of R.K.’s freckles, even in the dark.

 

“I want you to know that you’re not alone,” Gavin said sincerely, his voice barely audible in the night, “that Connor isn’t the only person that cares about you. _I_ care about you. _So, so much._ You saved me from myself. Let me at least do even a fraction of that for you.

 

“You are important to me and I… I… _I need you.”_

 

God did he need R.K.. God did he _want_ R.K..

 

He reached out toward R.K., his hand lingering in the air, Gavin uncertain, afraid that his touch would be rejected. But before he could think better of it, pull his hand away, R.K. moved himself. In a surprising gesture, long arms came to wrap themselves around Gavin, pulling him into a strong chest. Gavin had to conjure up every ounce of self-restraint to stop himself from breaking down then and there. R.K.’s arms shifted upwards, his hands snaking into Gavin’s hair, and holding him close.

 

R.K.’s nose and lips found home in Gavin’s hair and Gavin felt his heart squeeze painfully in his chest.

 

God. _God._

 

Gavin sure didn’t believe in one, but shit did that not stop him from taking his or her name in vain. Gavin closed his eyes, taking in deep breaths, relishing in the warmth all around him. How long had he gone without being allowed this? He hated himself for knowing the exact number of days.

 

“Please stop drinking,” R.K. breathed into Gavin’s hair, his voice so quiet, so soft, yet Gavin could hear the desperation in it.

 

Gavin lifted his hands; his fingers clutching the front of R.K.’s grey shirt, underneath the cover of his jacket. Gavin tilted his head slightly, so that his cheek now rested against the place where R.K.’s heart would be. “I’ve… I’ve stopped,” he answered; voice barely audible against fabric.

 

“It didn’t last very long,” Gavin confessed. “It - it still makes me think of my mother, so… so I can’t.” R.K.’s arms wrapped tighter around him; hands rubbing soothing circles into his back, in slow motions.

 

“I do care about you, you know?” was whispered into Gavin’s hair. “You matter to me. You have no idea how much.”

 

Gavin’s stomach tied itself into knots at that; his heart drumming to an unknown beat. Of course R.K. cared about him. Gavin had known that, even if the android had made attempts to distance himself. That didn’t dampen Gavin’s insecurities though. He was still so afraid, afraid that R.K. could disappear again, and Gavin would never get to see him again. He pressed himself even further into R.K., wanting to meld himself into the android; his fingers itching to climb higher, to wrap themselves around R.K.’s neck and pull his face closer toward Gavin’s.

 

Gavin forced down the temptation.

 

“Then please… please, _stay_?”

 

Apparently the Task Force’s time in Detroit was just about up, seeing as they’d finally heard from Anara. Michigan Congressman Markus had already returned to D.C., while the Task Force supposedly finished up their liaising with CyberLife. Which meant R.K. wasn’t going to be around for long. Gavin’s fingers reflexively tightened their grip on R.K.’s shirt, afraid of letting go.

 

Of course that had to be the moment that R.K. decided to pull away, making Gavin almost whimper.

 

No.

 

Please don’t go.

 

Gavin missed the warmth the moment R.K.’s arms withdrew from him.

 

R.K. looked back down at him, his eyes tired and his countenance forlorn. “I- I need to think… I have a lot of thoughts still in my head, and I’m struggling to sought through them all. It’s nothing short of a minefield. But… hearing you talk, it’s… it’s helped. It’s helped put things into better perspective and I am grateful, so _very grateful_ , that you trusted me enough to share the details of your past with me. I can’t imagine that was an easy task.”

 

Like Gavin had said, _anything for you R.K.._ He tried to respond with something but felt the words stuck at the back of his throat; his eyes studying R.K.’s face, memorising every last detail, as if this was the last time he was ever going to see the android.

 

“Thank-you,” R.K. whispered. “For everything. I just need time to…”

 

But there was no more time left.

 

 _Please_.

 

“I just need time. To think.”

 

There were so many things that Gavin could say to that. Like how R.K. being alone with his thoughts, was what the issue was in the first place. But then again, maybe now, the android’s thoughts would finally head in the right direction. Maybe now he finally had something to work with. Maybe knowing that Gavin was going to be there for him was the first step.

 

All Gavin could do in that moment though, was nod his head in resignation, feeling despondency hitting him like a punch to the gut once again. He’d already started to miss R.K. even though the android hadn’t left.

 

Perhaps this was for the good though. Maybe time away from R.K. - on good terms - might be what was needed for Gavin. At least he could come to terms with not relying on the android for his own happiness. Not that that was all he had wanted R.K. around for. R.K. was so much more - as Gavin’s friend, and as a person unto himself.

 

And Gavin had to respect the right for R.K. to make his own decisions.

 

R.K. smiled Gavin’s favourite crooked smile, before he leaned down and Gavin felt lips press against his cheek.

 

The touch of the soft flesh against his cheek sent everything inside Gavin haywire.

 

Even as R.K. eventually walked away with a soft, ‘Goodnight,’ Gavin had still remained in the same position just looking aimlessly out into the night; puffs of warm breath visible in the darkness around him. Gavin had lost count of how long it had taken his heart to settle down again, of how long it had taken for him to get his breathing back into a regular pattern. Despite the cold, the part of skin where lips had met his cheek, tingled from warmth, and Gavin wanted to relive that sensation again and again.

 

He eventually trudged his way to his car, knowing that the time would now be far too late in the night.

 

How was Gavin ever meant to feel anything like this for anyone again? Was it even possible for him to?

 

The answer was unsurprisingly obvious.

 

His arms wrapped around his staring wheel once he got inside his car; his forehead coming to press against them.

 

What Gavin felt for R.K., he was incapable of feeling for anyone else. Even _if_ Gavin wanted to, it wouldn’t be possible.

 

For the first time in forever, he allowed himself to admit something his subconscious had known so very long ago.

 

“I need you R.K..” he whispered into his empty car.

 

I…

 

I love you.

 

 

I fucking _love you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my own peace of mind, can you please let me know what you are taking away from this story?


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